


Abominations of the Mind

by Halkyon_Blade



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Blood, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Hurt!Loki, Hurt/Comfort, I'm terrible, M/M, Nightmares, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, PTSD Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Psychological Torture, Torture, but mainly Loki, hurt!Clint, hurt!Everyone!, hurt!Tony, occasional art links may appear in the end notes, starting at ch.12
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-11
Updated: 2017-02-06
Packaged: 2017-11-28 23:26:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 31,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/680061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Halkyon_Blade/pseuds/Halkyon_Blade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-Avengers. Loki Laufeyson is suffering through his punishment for his crimes with ways he really does not deserve. Abused in the Asgardian prison and then abducted by his worst nightmare, the God struggles to keep himself together. After he blindly escapes after months of brutal torture, he finds himself in a place he never wanted to go back to—right in the righteous embrace of his worst enemies, the earth's Mightiest Heroes. And more specifically into Tony Stark's. Eventual Frost/Iron. Rated for gore. Tags may change in the future.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Suffering Alone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warning:** Blood, Gore, Explicit Torture, Mentions of Rape
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** I own not the characters of this story
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> **Chapter 1 – Suffering alone.**

_Dark._

The only way to describe the cold feeling that swept away his senses, his mind. He can't feel cold or hot, nor pain, nor the hard and wet from his blood stone floor beneath him. He can't move or think. The darkness takes away everything, embraces his empty vision as a sweet mother does for her trembling and scared child in the middle of a storm.

And he's glad.

He succumbs, giving his body away to the welcoming darkness that surrounds him. And he wonders, just a small flame of hope, that death may eventually come for him.

But it never does. 

\---------------

The door of the cell flung open, heavy steps echoing on the hard floor. Something wet and cold was suddenly thrown at him, and something heavy collided with his face. He jerked awake with a gasp, his heavy and ragged breaths echoing around the small space. Still dizzy from passing out -and from the hard fist on his wet face-, Loki looked around confused. The ugly creature in front of him gave life to a spark that brought back life to his memory. His mouth went dry, and he swallowed hard. The shudder, though, that run through his body, didn't reach his eyes. He stared hard and hatefully at the Chitauri in front of him- his torturer. He struggled with what small power he had left as he was dragged away from the tight chains around his hands and neck. The creature didn't bother to stop him- Loki barely had strength left to stand on his own two feet. He didn't scream though-he wouldn't give them the satisfaction. As he was stranded on the wall, his already almost healed wounds made to bleed again, he didn't make a sound. The Trickster wouldn't yield to torture. No, he would draw his last pained breath before he screamed and begged for mercy.

Oh, but how he longed for death's sweet embrace... 

\---------------

The day the Avengers saved the earth, the day the God of Lies was defeated and brought back to Asgard chained and muzzled, was a day of celebration for all. All except Loki. Even Thor, the so loving not-brother of his, that claimed that so loved him and was pained for his fate, was beaming with pride and happiness as he practically dragged the Trickster in front of the All-Father and his court. It didn't take long for his punishment to be decided upon; a few centuries of isolation in a cell deep into Asgard's dark prison, would do. The young god wasn't particularly pleased with the news but it could have been worse. He was still a prince though, and no matter what the court decided, they had no power over his life. So imprisonment it was.

"Loki it will be all right." Thor's low but booming voice echoed along the long corridor, as he escorted his brother to his cell."It is just a few years, you will be out before you realize it, and we will celebrate your return with a big feast upon your name."

Loki sneered. Even now, all this oaf could think of was feasts and celebrations. He wouldn't be the one locked away for three hundred years, with nothing but his dark and unwanted thoughts and memories for company.

"Brother..." The Trickster narrowed his green eyes and glared menacelly at Thor at the mention of the _b_ word. If only that muzzle wasn't on his face... Thor didn't seem to notice the piercing gaze and he continued.

"After you fell from the Bifrost, we all thought you dead...If you were alive why didn't you come back to Asgard?"

Loki rolled his eyes. The oaf didn't seem to realize that a muzzle is meant to prevent a person from speaking.

"What happened to you all this time, brother?" Loki's eyes seemed to darken at the question and on his pale face a cold drop of sweat dripped above his brow. Thor turned and looked at him, curiosity and worry mixed in his bright blue eyes. He managed to hide his weakness behind a thick mask of hate and he just stood there, glaring at his brother, body tall and straight. Thor sighed and continued walking towards the cells.

After Loki was locked away and left alone in the small dark room, he left out a long sigh. The muzzle and the chains that restricted his magic were not removed, to his utmost discomfort, since they were quite tight, and his shoulders and jaw ached. Was he to be left like that for the next three centuries? He rested his back to the cold wall, and slid down to sit on the floor, convincing himself that they would be removed eventually. They had to feed him at some point. He just sat there, legs crossed and head and back resting against the wall, for what seemed like hours. Maybe more. Eventually he drifted into sleep. It had been long since he had truly slept, long before the attack with the Chitauri, or his fall from the Bifrost. It didn't take long though for him to jerk awake, sitting up awkwardly while trying to calm his panicked breathing. He was soaked in sweat, and his heart was racing. He slumped back against the wall, his eyes closed, trying to forget his nightmares. It was painfully clear that it'd take a while longer before he'd be able to sleep again in peace. A long while.

As he was still trying to gain control over his breathing, he heard steps coming closer. He listened to the sound trying to figure if they belonged to his brother or at one of the guards. Two... no, three people. He wondered why so many guards were needed for one cell. He didn't need to wonder for long though, as less than a minute later, the door opened and two tall men dressed in formal Asgardian army clothing stepped inside. Loki managed to catch a glimpse of a third person standing outside as the door closed behind them. The Trickster stood up slowly, his brows drown to a frown, as he analyzed the situation. It didn't take a genius to figure their purpose there, and Loki definitely was one. His deductions were confirmed, as a heavy boot collided with his abdomen, sending him to crash on the wall behind him. He could feel the coppery taste of his own blood behind the muzzle, and he almost chocked. Strong hands grabbed him from the cloth around his collar and held him firmly, before another hit to his middle forced out all the air from his lungs. He stumbled, breathing heavily from his nose, his green eyes sparkling and burning hateful holes to his attackers. They snickered before exchanging a meaningful look and they proceeded to finish what they started. 

\---------------

Loki didn't know if he thanked or cursed his healing powers, as his abusers came every day to his cell, finding him recovered from the previous day's painful marks, only to inflict new, even more painful ones. At the end of the third week, as Loki was thrown on the floor, his nose and three of his ribs broken, he still glared at the guards as they left him alone in the small room. He was used to the taste of blood by now...Didn't even notice it anymore. A whimper escaped his throat, as he struggled to pick himself up from the floor in a sitting position, and he felt his broken sides prick on his lungs. He lifted his still chained hands _-oh, how he wished he could use his magic...then they would be the bloodied corpses on the floor-_ to push his ribs back to their place, to heal properly. He shut his eyes closed at the immense pain the action caused him. When they were back in place, he did the same for his nose. With a sharp exhale from the nose he ridded himself of the remaining blood from his nostrils and he slumped back against the wall. Even though there was a small bed at the other side of the small room, he never used it, since he never had the strength to crawl onto it. He let out a small scoff, a mirthless laugh at himself. He was a prince and a God, _the God of Lies_ , laying bloody, chained and ragged in a small cell abused and violated by some no-name guards on daily basis. How much lower could he fall...? Still, ignoring the brutal abuse of the sick guards, Loki was not broken. He simply refused to be. The irony...

As he drifted off to sleep exhaustion and starvation catching up to him, his thoughts trailed off to Thor...Did Thor know what was happening to him...? No, he wouldn't know... Did the All-Father know...? Even if he did, the fact was that no one was coming for him...He was all alone... 

\---------------

A few days later, the same routine continued taking place. Though, for some time now the guards were becoming even more creative with their little games day by day. The god never stopped glaring hatefully at them, disgust and distress apparent in his eyes. This time, he had but few fractured bones, though his head was bleeding from a hard impact with the floor. One of the guards held him down with a strong grip on his raven hair, jerking his head back, as the other one struggled with the buckles of his pants. Loki knew what was going to follow, it was nothing new, and he dreaded it. The sheer humiliation as the guards had their way with him, was enough to make him completely disgusted with himself even. The guard flashed a wicked smile and he undid the last of his Asgardian buckles, before the room was painted red with his blood. Loki blinked, his face completely red with the guard's blood, as he struggled to realize what was happening. His first conclusion was, of course, that the guard was dead. A sickening warmth filled him with the thought. He watched the insides of his abuser drip down the walls onto the red floor and he would laugh, wasn't he gagged. The other guard just stood there frozen small whimpers escaping him as he tried to realize the situation. Loki's hair slipped from his grip, and the Trickster hurried to put distance between them. His triumph was cut short though as the pierced door of the cell creaked open. With horror in his tired green eyes, Loki watched helplessly as three Chitauri soldiers marched into the room, butchering the remaining guard. 

\---------------

The abuse of the guards was mere teasing compared to what he suffered in the hands of the chitauri. They were strong, they were evil, they were creative and most of all, they were angry. The fact that in the hands of Loki, an entire Chitauri fleet was completely annihilated, against mere humans even, made their twisted little brains think of better and better ways to make the God suffer. They beat him, they cut him, they burned him and that was just the foreplay.

They tied him up on a wooden table and stretched his limbs until they were dislocated, only to put them back in place and start all over, while at the same time they slowly dripped burning acid on his face.

They cut him with knives dipped in some sort of poison, that slipped though his wounds and caused him immense pain, while it prevented them from healing, causing severe blood loss on regular basis.

They nailed his hands above his head, and left him hanging from the wall barely able to stand on his toes, for days, until they got bored and thought of something new.

On one occasion, they removed the gag, and, as Loki's relief was evident, they pinned him down and slowly sew his lips shut with poisoned thread, just to put the muzzle back on after they finished.

It didn't take long for Loki to lose track of time. Not that time mattered in that hole they had dragged him and tortured him. Slowly, after a while, his mind started betraying him. The taste and smell of blood, the pain, the suffering, the humiliation, all clouded his mind making him lose sense of himself. For endless days he suffered alone in the darkness in the the hands of the Chitauri. From time to time, the name of his brother would pop into his mind, only to be replaced by burning white hot pain, as his skin was torn apart by his captors. But that wasn't the only kind of torture he endured. No, pain, hunger and thirst, were way too common ways to torture.

They spoke to him, with their disgusting, hissing voices. Calling him a monster, reminding him he was all alone, that no one cared for his worthless self. Blaming him for all the deaths, the distraction. And then they would come onto him ravaging him, stripping him of the last bits of his remaining dignity. Leaving him blank, empty.

After a while he seemed to have stopped caring completely. His gaze was blank and he seemed to not pay attention to his surroundings, as the creatures still brutally tore his flesh. But he was Loki. The Trickster. The God of lies, the Master of deceit. One of the most strong-willed and prideful creatures in existence. Even if he was exhausted, in pain and suffering, almost broken in body and mind, when he was left alone in his cell that burning hate in his glistering green eyes came to life. Even if his magic was sealed, his healing powers depleting, and his lips sewn shut, he still hadn't given up. As the days, weeks, months went painfully by, in a dark corner of his mind, Loki patiently gathered small, tiny bits of magic from within him. His healing energy, his life force, his blood, the sorcerer put everything aside, converting it to magic energy. Oh, how close to _death_ he had come at those times...! But the Chitauri would never allow him to die. Would never allow him redemption. They would give him something to make his already fast -though depleting- healing rate faster, and when the color would start to return to his almost white skin, they would start destroying him again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **AN- I hope you dear reader, that took time to read this story, enjoyed it! This is my first fic, so please go easy on me people~**  
>  If you find any mistakes please do point it out.
> 
>  
> 
> **Until next time~! :)**


	2. Reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warning:** Blood, gore, explicit torture
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** I own not the characters of this story
> 
>  
> 
> **Chapter 2-Reunion**

Tony Stark was drunk. Again. Alcohol was always something he enjoyed, his best friend on many occasions. This time though he seemed to have had just a bit too much. He vaguely wondered just how long his liver would stand before rotting."Challenge accepted" he thought with a scoff.

It had been almost three months since Pepper had left him. Sure, they were still very good friends, and Stark Industries would crumble, would she decided to leave. But no romance had managed to bloom after what happened since the invasion of the Chitauri. Ever since he led a missile through the portal, Tony Stark wasn't the same man anymore. Few people could see it, and even fewer continued acting towards him as they did before; without pity. His ironic and carefree facade covered him efficiently most of the times, but, as time went by, the signs were becoming more apparent. The dark circles under his unreadable eyes became permanent, obvious clue that he slept way less that it was deemed healthy. Though he never was one to take seriously responsibilities like S.H.I.E.L.D. and Avengers meetings, were he usually went just to have fun and maybe to hack into S.H.I.E.L.D.'s database to annoy Nick Furry, now he had become unusually quiet or lost in his thoughts, and, if he was in especially bad mood he had made a habit of bringing the next person to talk to him in tears with just a few thorny sentences.

Every night, the genius would do anything he could think of just to avoid going to bed. He would lock himself in his workshop for hours, designing stuff and drinking his favorite scotch until he collapsed from exhaustion, only to wake up soon after, shouting and in tears, from the terrors in his dreams. As for his "night" life-it was non-existent. He simply had no energy to deal with people...even if those people were _hot._

He slowly walked towards the bar of his room grabbing his empty for the tenth or so time -he'd lost count long ago- glass, and filled it with a generous amount of amber liquid.

_"Sir, Miss Potts just called."_

"Tell her I'm sleeping, Jarvis."

_"She left a message, sir. She wanted to remind you not to be late for tomorrow's press conference._ 'If you dare to be late this time, I swear I'll personally make you regret it', _her words exactly, sir."_

"Yeah, sure, tell her I'll be there. Probably."

_"Of course, sir"_

He walked around the room for a bit, slowly shipping his drink. His mind was foggy from lack of sleep and the vast amounts of alcohol he had consumed, but it still remained as sharp as it could be. He hated that part of being a genius. Thinking was so tiring, but still, he couldn't make his brain slow down no matter how much he tried. As he sat at the edge of the huge bed, he let his thoughts wonder back in the times he had happily spend with Pepper, the only person that still tolerated him exactly as he was. It didn't take long for his eyes to close, as sleep fell heavy as a blanket on him.

\---------------

It was dark.

He felt his body heavy and falling.

He fell slowly, very slowly, like he was melting, becoming one with the darkness.

As he fell, he saw small lights scattered across the dark void, sparkling like tiny stars, shining, making the surrounding darkness even thicker.

He tried to reach out his hand to grab a small light that seemed to be very close to him.

He couldn't grab it.

His body was stiff and cold, like the flesh of a dead.

Panic crawled over him like a giant snake and he tried to scream.

But no sound came out.

The silence swallowed his voice, as the darkness swallowed him.

Suddenly a tiny sound pierced his mind, a quiet screeching that made him feel like something was scratching his head open from the inside.

He blinked, trying to make the noise go away but the more he tried, the louder it became. Until it became unbearable.

His hands shot up on the sides of his head and a silent scream escaped him.

The movements made him realize he could control his body again, so he turned his attention to the small twinkling lights that lay innocently around him,  
forgetting the sound inside his head.

He reached his hand and as he felt its welcoming warmth, he tightly closed his fingers around it.

It exploded with a blinding flash of white.

\---------------

Tony jumped from his sleep, breath heaving, the fire alarm making him feel like his head was on the verge of exploding. He shut his ears with his hands and stumbled from the bed.

"Jarvis! Turn this fucking sound off!"

_"It's the fire alarm, sir."_

"Do I seem like I fucking care? Turn it off!"

_"Of course, sir."_

The sound became finally quiet, and the man took some deep breaths to calm his nerves before he was able to think clearly again. Then it struck him.

"Jarvis, what happened? Why did the fire alarm go off?"

_"An explosion of some sort seems to have taken place in your living room, two floors below you, sir."_

"An...A fucking explosion?"

_"Yes , sir."_

After the first shock passed, he hastily run to the elevator -still not able to stand on his feet very well- before re-thinking it. Explosions and elevators don't work very well together. He run to the internal emergency stairs, that coursed through the tower from the far side of the floors, for situations like this. But how the heck did an explosion happen? And in the living room no less! If it was the kitchen or his workshop he could understand it, but the _living room_...!

He reached the floor, and he slowed down to regain his breath. Slowly, he walked towards the room, scared of the sight that awaited him.

It was a complete _mess_.

The couch and armchairs were crashed on the wall, expensive leather burned beyond repair. The coffee table and everything else breakable laid in pieces around the room. The previously creamy white walls now were gray and black and smoking, and the sturdy bulletproof glasses that covered the big windows were no more.

Tony sucked in the sight and he let out a heavy breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. Then he saw it. His eyes widened in shock, and he unconsciously took a few steps back. A tall blackened figure stood still in the middle of the destruction face hidden under dirty black locks. The figure slowly moved his head to look at him, before it's eyes betrayed its own shock at the billionaire's sight. Tony shivered.

_"YOU!"_

He hadn't recognized him at first, but the muzzle on his face was exactly the same as the one an infamous mass-murdering psychopath wore before he was dragged chained back to Asgard, many months ago. Could even be more than a year, but Tony wasn't exactly sober through it to notice.

The figure seemed to panic and he stumbled back two trembling steps. That seemed weird to Tony, whose alcohol muffled brain took fast and adrenaline-filled steps towards sobriety.

His eyes trailed from Loki's face to his body, and the blood that freely flowed from his ragged cloths and stained the floor left him speechless.

"What the _hell_ happened to you...?"

He threw a horrified look towards the villain, who just stood there looking at him through his sharp eyes, before collapsing in the arms of the Avenger that leaped to catch him.

\---------------

When Loki was dragged towards the torture chambers that day, he seemed the same as usual. A hollow, broken body, unable for anything other than suffering in the hands of his captors. But this time it was different. No one noticed the mischievous spark that shined in his eyes. He had to concentrate hard to keep himself from sneering as the Chitauri took their time breaking his bones, tearing his flesh and spilling his blood that day. He didn't mind though. He needed just a bit more...A bit more and then he would be finally free. But the spark didn't last for long. That day was also the day that his torturers decided to try something new on him. A small vial with a bright blue liquid was injected into him and he immediately recognized it. Tesseract essence. It was the first time. The first accursed time that his muffled scream sounded through the muzzle and his sewn lips. Tears rolled down on his bloodied cheeks, forming small steams, and he continued screaming. The Chitauri in the room looked delighted. Surely they regretted not using it earlier. Loki struggled in agony, but the bounds that held his chained arms above his head held him firmly into place.

In all his months of torture, the Trickster had never felt such pain. It wasn't the burning feeling that came from a stab or the hissing ice cold trails the poison left in his veins. No, this one was different. It run through his blood fast coursing through his body like an intoxicating drug. It made his heart beat faster and faster, until he thought it would seriously break down. It reached his mind, flooding it with the burning feelings he suppressed for centuries. Feelings of love, of betrayal, of sadness, of loneliness, of hate, of guilt. Oh, the _guilt!_ Though he always knew it was there, he never imagined such terrifying heavy guilt was locked inside of him. The drug continued its course, making his vision blurry, sending his head spinning. He felt that he was on the verge of throwing up, but he fought it hard. Definitely not something he wanted to experience again, vomiting with his mouth like that. The essence run through his lungs making the air in them burning hot, making every breath an impossible struggle. Until it reached his soul. Then everything stopped. He felt lost. He was lost. His senses were useless, and the only thing he could think or feel of was that he was lost. That awful, agonizing feeling that settled itself on the pit of his stomach, and filled him with fear he had never felt before. He trembled, tears flowing freely from his eyes. As his senses started returning, the hollow feeling of fear ripping his insides, and the poison continued its vile work inside of him. As he screamed, he felt something. Something warm, familiar and secure calling out to him from the far back of his mind. He blindly followed the small tune that echoed in his head. Suddenly his thoughts were illuminated by the warm feeling of raw magic. The magic he so carefully collected all this time, in order to teleport himself away of that hell, to escape. The hope that awoke within him send small sparks across his agonized limbs and with a deep breath he released the power, only thinking of ridding himself of the pain that had almost become one with him through all this time.

It was too early. It was hasty. It was raw magic, and he was too weak and filled with powerful Tesseract essence. It was foolish. And it exploded. Right into the Chitauris' faces.

The only thing he managed to see before the void consumed him was a brilliant flash of white, and then he let himself sink into the vortex as he was teleported. Where, he had no idea. But anywhere was better than _there_.

\-------------

He blinked, trying to regain his senses. He had no idea where he was, not even in which of the nine realms, if he had reached any. The smell or burned leather and wood filled his mind and made him lightheaded. He heard the sound of timid steps coming close, and that reassured him, meaning that he had at least reached _somewhere_.  
He slowly lifted his head, every muscle in his body protesting in pain, to look at the creature that closed in on him. The person that stood before him was definitely not one we expected or wanted to see again. The Avenger that he had once threw from the window of his own tower, the person that had single handedly made scraps of a whole, huge Chitauri battleship. Tony Stark himself.

The man looked scared when he noticed his presence in the middle of the destroyed room. Then his face had turned to one of absolute horror and resentment.

_"YOU!"_

Loki stepped back in a desperate attempt to get away from the one person that, along with his team of super heroes, would send him back in the hands of his living nightmares. That didn't work very well though, since he realized he had no energy left. At all.

The man didn't attack him though. Instead he looked at him curiously, inspecting him. Then the horror on his face returned, stronger this time.

"What the _hell_ happened to you...?"

Loki had no energy to react at the question. He desperately tried not to let his weakness show, but all he managed in his struggle not to collapse was a piercing gaze on the man that was his enemy. Which was too much, he realized, as darkness engulfed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **As usual, if you spot any grammar or spelling mistakes, please do let me know.**
> 
> **Until next time~! C:**


	3. Bloody Options

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warning:** Blood, mentions of torture, mentions of rape
> 
> **Disclaimer:** I own not the characters of this story
> 
> **Chapter 3 – Bloody Options**

Tony looked down at the limp, bloody body in his arms. He was stunned. He was in his tower...the one that was more than often used as the Avengers HQ... with the unconscious body of one of the most wanted criminal masterminds in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s history...! He took some deep breaths to digest the facts. Something warm dripped from his fingers, and made his thoughts focus on Loki. He was still bleeding. Badly.

Not wasting any more time, Tony picked up the body and, making a mental note of how frigging heavy the god was, he half-carried half-dragged him to the next room -which was miraculously another cozy living room- laid him on the sofa and he busied himself with removing Loki' s ruined leather clothes, stripping him down to his underwear. A loud gasp escaped him when he saw the extend of the injuries on the god's arms and torso. Multiple huge and smaller wounds gashed up blood painting the pale skin red. If the body in front of him belonged to a normal man he would have been out of this world long ago, Tony was sure. He left the god for a few minutes to run to the medical center of the tower and grab the necessary equipment to try and fix him up. He didn't want to move him much, in case the injuries got worse.

"Jarvis!" he barked, not able to contain the panic that was now obvious in his voice. "Heat up some water, and have a surgery kit ready by the time I get to the med room."

_"Right away, sir."_

The genius run to the elevator and hit the floor button. The ride was less than a minute long, but Tony was so high on adrenaline that he wondered if he always chewed his nails like that or it was a new developing habit. Finally he reached the room, grabbed the stuff that the home-keeping robots had ready under Jarvis' orders, and run back to the fallen god.

\---------------

Looking at Loki he wondered why he was helping him and, most of all, why the hell was he so worried. The Asgrardian was a cold-bloodied murderer, that not so long ago had slayed hundreds of humans in order to take over the earth because "daddy" All-Father wouldn't pay attention to him. Why should Tony care if the psycho lived or not? On the contrary, he should be glad the situation was the way it was, and he should fulfill his duty as a "Midgardian" and end Loki once and for all. He was the enemy, for fuck's sake!

He dismissed the thoughts and hastily began to clean the wounds, all the while wondering who or what the hell caused a _GOD_ to become like that. Not even the floor-redecorating beating from the Hulk managed to make the Trickster into something even slightly resembling what he had before him.

He was cleaning a huge gash that spread from his stomach to his lower hip bone, when a muffled sound drew his attention. Loki stirred, his eyes tightly shut and sweat dripping down his dirty with blood and filth face, forming small streams. Tony thought he saw some tears mix with the sweat.

"Loki, can you hear me?" His soft tone surprised even him. Loki slowly opened his eyes between ragged breaths and looked at him. Tony noticed that the god was shivering. A weak retreating movement, followed by sharp pained inhales, made him realize the position the god was in.

"I'm not going to hurt you" _-for now-_ "You're seriously injured, so try to stay still while I stitch the wounds, okay?"

The sharp look from the green eyes had vanished and had been replaced by a weak and unreadable one. Tony took it as a sign to continue, so he went back to cleaning and disinfecting the wounds on his abdomen and chest and stitching them up. As he worked he also discovered more similar wounds on his arms and legs and, as for his back, he found that some huge slashes, probably made by a whip of some short, generously added to the blood loss.

As he was working, Loki only managed to make some choked whimpers, obviously trying to suppress his weakness but not really succeeding. He was trembling violently and, by the time Tony had finished with half his injuries, he had already passed out from the pain. After he finished he took a wet cloth and gently rubbed it on the sensitive flesh to remove the remaining blood. There were literally no areas on the Trickster's body that didn't have a wound of some short.

After he finished cleaning the upper body he moved to the legs. It was then he noticed that blood was dripping from some kind of wound and stained his inner thighs. He gently turned the injured god around to see where the wound was, and then he realized what had happened. He had to sit down in order not to fall with the discovery. Was this really how Asgard treated their prisoners?

_"...Shit."_ With trembling hands he cleaned up the god as best as he could, trying not to touch the most damaged and bruised skin of his upper thighs. The more he learned about Loki's condition, the more he put aside his crimes and the angrier he became with whoever had anything to do with it. Oh, he had one or two things to talk about with Thor. Or scream about, same thing.

After he had finished dressing all the wounds, he inspected his work. Loki lay still on the now bloody couch; eyes closed and skin a deathly shade of white. His hands were bound by heavy steel shackles, and his face was mostly covered by a tight steel muzzle from which, Tony noted, a small but thick stream of blood run down his chin. Too tight, the billionaire thought, and tried to figure how to get it off the Trickster's face. He found a small pressing point at the back of the weird device, de-activated and easily slipped it off the god's face. A choked scream of agony escaped from Loki as he woke up from the cold metal that was forcefully detached from the pierced skin on which it was stuck on for such a long time. Tony barely managed to contain his own scream of pure horror at the sight of the god's tightly and brutally sewn-together lips, from which blood was still oozing, even though it was obvious that it was nowhere near fresh a wound. He took two shaky steps back, the sight too damn macabre for his stomach.

It took him many heavy breaths to calm down and manage to tear his eyes from the horrid sight and run to the kitchen. He collapsed above the sink, sucking horrified breaths from the nose and trying hard not to vomit. After he was a bit calmer, still trembling he gulped down a glass of water as fast as he dared to, and filled one more before he made his way back to Loki.

The god was just as he had left him, though he was awake and was trembling so hard, Tony was worried he might tear some of the still fresh stitches.  
He grabbed a pair of scissors and inspected the thread on the bloody lips.

"...Fuck...This is way beyond torture anymore...This is plain sick..."

Loki was blinking from the pain, and didn't seem to listen to him talking, but when Tony grabbed his chin firmly but gently, he focused his tired eyes on him, giving him a look as he was expecting him to stab him with the sharp tool. When he realized what the other man was about to do, he shut his eyes and clenched his jaw to brace himself for the upcoming pain.

Tony started snipping the thick threads cut, and each cut thread drew sharp and trembling inhales from the god. The billionaire admired the other's endurance to pain. He couldn't even imagine how much that would hurt, and to be honest he had no interest in finding out.

After he cut all the threads he braced himself for the hardest part. He got hold of his chin and with a small pair of tweezers he grabbed the first loose thread and gently pulled it to remove it from the small holes around the Trickster's lips. A loud scream escaped the freshly released lips and tears made their way to the god's eyes. Tony held him steady with one hand and continued removing the cords with the tweezers on his other.

"Hush...It's okay, I'm almost done...Just a few more..." Tony tried to reassure and calm him down, without much success.

It didn't take long for the god to pass out again from the unbearable pain. Tony was glad since it made his work much easier and saved Loki loads of unnecessary pain. Carefully he removed the last of the cursed threads -careful not to touch it in the process since he figured they must have had something on them to prevent the wounds from healing around the stitches- and gently wiped the rest of the blood form the god's face.

He was finally done.

\---------------

Loki woke up from a bright light on his face. He blinked disoriented. Had the Chitari already started the torture before he woke up? He mentally inspected the damage on his body. He felt something soft and warm beneath him. When he tried to get up and inspect his surroundings, a sharp yelp escaped him. His body was on fire, he felt the pain consume him so deeply that even his blood hurt...

"At last, the princess finally opens her eyes...! How do you feel?"

He froze. That voice...The events of the previous night snapped back into his memories, even though most of it was vague. He slowly raised his head from his curled in position he had adopted as a reaction to the sharp pain. He breathed slowly. He was there, Tony Stark, one of the people responsible for his demise.

He continued starring intensely at the man, but said man didn't seem to budge.

"I repeat, how do you feel? You were in a really bad shape, not too long ago."

"I-" The god stopped with surprise evident and shimmering in his wide emerald eyes. The stitches...the muzzle... They were all gone...! He could breathe again, speak, feel the soft air at the tip of his tongue...Eat...! His wide eyes looked down as one hand -his hand- reached up and softly touched his lips.

"Did you...Why would you help me?" he said narrowing his eyes towards the other man. The usually soft and alluring voice was now low and harsh from the strain, the pain and the fact that probably the last time he had uttered a word was to ask for that drink right after he was defeated and beaten to a pulp by the Hulk.

"Why? You showed up at my doorstep- well more like my living room but hey- in need of help. Now, what kind of Avenger would I be if I ignored a man in need?" he answered with his usual shit-eating grin. Loki's eyes seemed to emanate flames.

"I killed your people, tried to subdue your kind, took over the minds of your allies, threw you out of your own window...I am your enemy, Stark, so why am I not already in a S.H.I.E.L.D. cell rotting? Why haven't you called your little group yet?" the words left his mouth before he had time to process them. His voice remained low but his anger and frustration was evident.

Tony' smirk vanished and he got up from his seat to look down at him, something Loki clearly did not appreciate.

"You want to know why? I'll tell you why! Because you show up in my tower, blowing up my living room, literally bathing in a pool of your own blood after clearly been almost tortured to death! So excuse me if my first action was to save your ass instead of throwing you in a fucking cell, you ungraceful little wretch!"

Loki seemed to be looking desperately for a comeback, but was too dumbstruck to find any. Tony turned his back to him and stormed out of the room, banging the door shut behind him.

Once out of the door, Tony's anger flared, but was somewhat dulled, a smirk plastered on his face. He had to make a wallpaper of the god's expression just now. He instructed Jarvis to remind him of it.

Back in the room, Loki tried to process Stark's answer. He never expected to end up back in the place where he was defeated -though it did make sense after he thought about it- but after he did, he seriously thought that everything was over. He never in the least expected Iron Man, of all people, to aid him. And he didn't seem to have alerted his little band of heroes either. Yet, at least. He slumped back in the pillows. He had a terrible headache and no mental energy what-so-ever to analyze the mystery of one Tony Stark. Soon he drifted into a much desired sleep. Not a dreamless one though, unfortunatly.

\---------------

"...ki. Loki! Wake up, dammit!" Loki felt a heavy shove follow the voice, calling his name. His eyes shot open, and darted around the dim lighted room before focusing on the brown pair of eyes looking down on him.

"Stark..." his breaths came out uneven and he could feel his heart beat so fast in his chest that for a moment he feared it would burst out.

"What...are you doing here?" he hissed when he succeeded in drawing a proper breath. The dream was still too vivid in his mind. He could still feel the cold fingers touching his skin, scratching it, causing abominable pain.

Loki put down his elbows to push himself in a sitting position, but he immediately regretted the movement as the world spinned around him and he reached out his hand to grab onto something. Tony was quick to steady him, and push him down again.

"Don't. You're running a high fever. And…you had a nightmare. Jarvis told me." he added quickly.

Loki remained silent and reached his hand to brush his sweaty hair out of his eyes. He was surprised to find moist on his cheeks. He grinded his teeth in embarrassment.

"Did you come here to mock me, Stark?" he rasped weakly.

"Why do you always assume everyone is out to mock you?" the other man bit back annoyed. He took a couple of pills from his pocket and put it on the nightstand by the god's side, along with a glass of water he had previously put there."Painkillers." He announced simply and stood up to leave.

Loki took the pills with trembling hands and hesitated just for a moment before gulping them down with half the glass of water.

The billionaire paused at the door to make sure he took the pills, and then turned to walk away. A voice reached his ears and he turned curious towards the bed.

"...Thank you." Loki mumbled. He looked towards Iron Man with his usual cold stare, as to state that his gratitude changed nothing. The spark of vulnerability was too hard to conceal though. Tony smiled -a truly weird smile- and left.


	4. Food For Thought

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warning:** Blood, mentions of torture
> 
> **Disclaimer:** I own not the characters of this story
> 
> **Chapter 4 - Food For Thought**

Loki opened his eyes only to close them again tightly, as the golden sunlight burned against his weak stare. The rest of the night had passed easily, thanks to the pills Stark had given him. The effect though had already passed and the pain that flared his body was close to unbearable. He slowly opened his eyes again, giving them time and blinking to adjust to the light, and with a grunt he looked around. He noticed that the glass by the nightstand was once again filled with water, and two more pills lay beside it. This time he didn't hesitate to reach out for them, but he wasn't that successful. As he tried to sit up, the pain that rested in his bones and flesh emerged, obviously quite against the action. With a howl he fell back on the mattress, curling in on himself, trembling. Tears made their way down his cheeks and the sob that escaped him made him grind his teeth in shame, hard enough to make his jaw hurt. He was so overwhelmed by the pain, that he didn't notice the loud footsteps closing in, or the door opening and slamming against the wall, until he heard a voice so close it could very well be whispering in his ear. Loki's body went rigid, and the pained tremors gave way for frightened shaking. He remembered when the voices spoke to him, while the pain ate him away. He couldn't focus to what the voice was saying- hell, he didn't want to listen. He couldn't take it anymore. He already knew what he was, knew what he had done, regretted it to the point of self loathing. If only he was dead...

\---------------

Tony was quietly sipping his coffee, while studying a file of body scans of Loki -that Jarvis had taken the night before, after the god fell asleep- and comparing them with results from blood samples. It wasn't looking good. Several of the bones seemed to had been broken and healed multiple times, currently several cracked ones, and his organs seemed to have taken severe damage as well. He was astonished by the endurance of the immortal body. By all means, he should be long dead. Another thing he was worried about was that his temperature seed to be rapidly falling. The fever of 42 Celsius degrees of the previous night, had suddenly turned to an internal temperature of 34 and falling. That reminded him of the time when the god was captured by S.H.I.E.L.D. and held at the Helicarrier, in the Hulk-cage. The scans they did that time showed unusually low temperature, and Thor had told them that it was normal for his brother. Tony noted that he had to look into it later.

_"Sir, your guest seems to have awakened."_ Jarvis informed with his usual calm tone and British accent.

"Thanks, Jarvs." Tony answered while sipping a last gulp from his bitter coffee.

Slowly, he rose from his seat on the kitchen counter, intending to check up on his new 'roommate' from space. A loud scream echoed from the end of the hall. Tony stilled. He didn't expect that. He hastily covered the rest of the way to the room were Loki was, and swung open the door. He found the god curled up on the bed, his bandaged body trembling violently. He went closer and bend above him.

"Loki...?"

The god seemed frightened by his voice. Tears stained his face and the sobs that shook his body seemed to choke him. He wasn't looking at Tony. In fact he seemed to have his eyes tightly closed in order not to look at him.

"Loki! Look at me!" Tony hissed, more eager. Loki seemed to be drowning in some kind of painful remembrance. He could see some of the white bandages stain with small red spots. That didn't seem good.

Loki felt two strong hands grab his face and pull him. With a sharp inhale he opened his eyes, preparing himself for the worst. Instead he was met with two dark brown pools, staring with intensity at him.

"Loki, you're fine. I'm not gonna hurt you, you're safe here."

He looked deep into the eyes that seemed to look not at him but into him. His breath caught in his throat, the honesty so apparent in the stare that he felt bare and weak. His mind was so shaken by the memories and the pain that it had trouble registering the moments. It seemed like an eternity had passed before he recognized the eyes before him, so close that he could feel the other's hot breath on his lips.

"Stark..." he rasped with a breath. The piercing eyes softened and a smile reached them.

"Welcome back." replied the other while carefully lowering the man in his hold on the pillow. He sat beside him on the bed, not removing his hands from his face."What happened?"

Loki seemed to be calming down with the touch, weakness falling heavy over him. He didn't answer, instead he reached one still trembling hand and lightly grabbed Tony's wrist, as if to make sure it was really there. The metal wristbands were still attached around his hands, but the chain that linked them was removed and allowed them individual movement. The move stirred the wounds on his body, forcing him to bite down a growl and bring his other hand to tightly grab on his stomach.

Tony didn't miss it, and removed his hands from the god's face to check on his injuries.

"You opened up quite a few of them." he commented with a raised eyebrow, as he removed the other's hand from his stomach to inspect the damage."Did you have a nightmare again?"

"It...it does not concern you, Stark." Loki forced his mouth to hiss, as coldly as possible. Which wasn't much.

"If you say so." he replied calmly, not really bothered by the sharp comment. None of the stitches had torn so he let out a small, relieved sigh and closed the bandages. Loki looked at him, waiting for him to finish until he spoke.

"Why are you here, Stark? Why am _I_ still here?"

Tony looked at him with the same hard stare he used only moments ago to calm the god down. Loki's eyes betrayed his pride, but also, behind it, was visible his uncertainty and maybe also fear.

"We're not going over this again. You are injured. I cannot hand you over to S.H.I.E.L.D. like that, you'll be dead within two days, immortal or not. So be a good god, lie down and rest until further notice." To make his point clearer, he threw such a glare at the god that left no doubt the topic was officially closed.

Loki frowned in annoyance at the tone, but said nothing.

The genius noticed the pills, still laying on the stand, and he took them in his hand. With a gesture he brought them towards the Trickster's lips, waiting for him to open his mouth. It took a few moments of hard-glaring, until the god finally complied and opened, letting the medicine slip back in his throat. Tony grabbed the glass and helped Loki raise his head enough to gulp down a few mouthfuls of cold water. After putting the glass aside, he turned to the god.

"So." Loki looked suspiciously at him. His hand was still clutching at the other's wrist, still trembling slightly, but he didn't seem to notice it. Tony grinned at him. "Are you hungry?"

The Trickster was taken aback with the question. He expected something more between the lines of "who did this to you" or "you do know you owe me now, right?". Tony was still looking at him waiting for an answer, but when none came from the shaken god he just stood up, grin never leaving his face. Loki's hold on him slipped, and the god nearly jumped with the realization that he was still clutching at the mortal like that. Another shock came over him when he noticed, at the back of his mind, that he wanted to grab onto him again, the touch so warm and reassuring. He kicked the thoughts out of his head and continued to stare at the mortal, a disbelieving frown on his face.

"I'll take that as a yes." the mortal said. "How long has it been since you last ate?" he added curiously as an after-thought, looking at the thin frame. Loki's face darkened and he averted his gaze.

"I cannot recall." He whispered hesitantly, as if ashamed of the fact.

Tony frowned at his words, and turned towards the door.

"Alright." was all he said before making his way back to the kitchen.

\---------------

t wasn't long before Tony returned with a trail full of different kinds of food in it. Loki vaguely wondered if mortals always ate like that and that reminded him of his brother. An appetite to be feared, truly.

"I didn't know what kind of food you eat up there in 'Magic-Candy-Land', but judging by your brother's thing for food, I'm guessing not much different from us. More greens perhaps..."

"He's _not_ my brother." Loki sneered as best as he could from the bed.

"Ok, ok big boy, Thor then. Anyways, here's a bit of everything you can eat the way you are now, so by all means, dig in." he said as he put the dishes on the small table besides the bed.

Loki looked at him, and then at the food. He really didn't like the way the Avenger was addressing him, but his stomach got the best of him. The smell made his mouth water, and for once he put his stubbornness aside and ignored the witty comments. He was so absorbed by the smell of the food, that he didn't think before hastily lifting his body to get closer. The pain that washed over him wasn't as strong as before the painkillers, but it was enough to draw a deep grunt and a sharp hiss as he wavered, half-seated on the bed, almost falling off. Tony was there, once again, to steady him and keep him upright with a firm grip by the shoulders, until the sudden wave of pain passed and the movement became slightly more bearable.

"You okay?" Loki nodded, sweat gathering on his forehead from the strain. Tony raised an eyebrow. "Are you trying to kill yourself? Because if you do, you should have told me before I worked my ass off to fix you up."

The Trickster didn't reply, too concerned with willing the pain away to waste any brain-energy on the Avenger. He didn't realize he was leaning against the man's grip for support until the other pushed him to lean against the bedpost. Loki bit his lip in frustration, bothered by the weakness he seemed to constantly portray in front of his enemy.

"Hey, hey, don't do that!" Tony seemed agitated. Loki looked at him curiously. "Your lip is bleeding again you moron." Tony pointed out with a sigh.

The genius passed a hand through his hair. Damn... he was tired. He couldn't sleep the previous night, nor the night before, not after everything he'd witnessed on the god's body. As a result he counted 45 straight hours awake, excluding the 2 hours-nap he had about 10 hours ago on the couch. It wasn't really much of a nap, more like 'passing out from exhaustion' kind of thing. It was worth it, he thought before realizing it, as he watched the god before him. Though he was in much pain, he was still alive and that should count for something, right?

The blood from the Loki's lip was now dripping from his chin, though he didn't seem much bothered by it. Tony reached into a drawer under the nightstand, pulled out a sterilized bandage and passed it to Loki to stop the bleeding. Reluctantly, the other took it and slowly pressed it against his torn flesh. His mouth was now surrounded by sixteen small and bright red scars, barely healed. Whatever covered that gruesome thread was not something to be taken lightly. Such small wounds would have almost healed already on a normal person, let alone a god. A light bulb seemed to flick inside Tony's brain and he had to keep himself from face-palming.

"Say, do you still have your magic?"

Loki looked at him, eyes flashing with something dangerous for a moment, before returning to his previous passive look. He slowly lifted his hand, indicating the metal handcuffs.

"It is restricted, if you must know." he muttered with a sharp tone."Worry not, you are safe from me. I am not able to harm you in this state." His eyes reflected something sad. Tony noticed it.

"No, I wasn't worried about that." He dismissed Loki's words with his hand, much to the god's surprise."I mean, don't you gods have any special healing hocus-pocus or something? Shouldn't you be better already?"

Loki studied him for a bit before giving up with a sigh.

"It is true that with my magic I could use healing spells, but that would require energy that in my current state I wouldn't be able to spare." He made a move towards the food again, slower this time. "Not all Asgardians can use magic. I've been studying for many centuries, and it also requires talent for more elegant forms of art, which again, the war-hungry brutes of Asgard cannot fully apprehend. All of them, me included, do possess much faster healing rate than mortals though."

He paused to put a piece of apple in his mouth and chew it with obvious pleasure. Tony found himself amused with that side of the god.

"If that's true then why aren't your lips and the less severe cuts already healed?"

Loki shuddered. "That is... I don't really want to talk about it." he replied, putting all of his willpower into not appearing as timid as he felt at the moment."Let's just say they are not fully available at the moment." He gulped down the apple with effort.

"'Cause of the cuffs?" Loki almost rolled his eyes at the mortal's ignorance.

"It's none of your business, mortal. Stop asking questions, you would not understand the answers anyway." he bit back sharply.

Tony glared at him annoyed. That stupidly defensive tone of the god really tested his already limited patience.

"If I had to guess I'd say your abilities have weakened from damage overdose. Correct?"

Loki stilled.

"How did-"

"Not all mortals are talking apes, you know. You've been under heavy torture. If you say you have extended healing abilities which, according to your reaction just now, are not affected by your cuffs, then that means you have already recovered from a lot of damage. By taking into account the way you look right now, I'd say they haven't been working well for quite a while now. So there you have it."

Loki was speechless but recovered quickly and managed to regain compose.

"That was impressive. For a mortal."

"Never underestimate a genius. So, will those abilities be coming back or are they long gone?"

Loki nodded."With plenty of rest they will return."

"Rest then. Oh, and eat, you seem like a gust of wind could knock you down." he said standing up. "I'm going to crush for a couple of hours, if you need anything ask Jarvis."

He waved a general good-night and drifted out of the room without waiting for an answer, leaving Loki alone with his food wondering who was Jarvis and why the Hel was Stark going to 'crush'. He didn't look like the self-destructing type. Then again, he was housing a universal criminal so you never know...


	5. Tears and Blood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warning:** Blood, Torture, PTSD
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** I own not the characters of this story

Cold fingers brushed against the soft skin of his cheek, sending chilling waves down his spine. He didn't make a sound, though he was sure that if he had any less self-control he would already be whimpering like a wounded animal. The soft, almost tender touch trailed the line of his jaw, following it to the other cheek. Six black talons replaced the fingers, digging roughly into the flesh, leaving behind six deep, red lines marking his face from below his eye to his chin, two of them crossing his lips. It hurt, but he could handle it, he had worse.

He pressed his lips together to reduce the pain and drew a sharp inhale from his nose. The hand returned, and cupped his chin to pull his face up, long fingers digging into the skin, forming angry black bruises.

 _"Little god."_ The creature spit. _"You think you are strong. You believe that you can disobey."_

Loki snarled baring his teeth in defiance, his emerald eyes shining in the half-light of the dungeon. The creature back-handed him with its misshapen hand, sending him rolling a couple of meters away, blood splattering around from the gashes on his face. He stayed there motionless, his head spinning. The bounds that held his wrists behind his back and his feet together by the knees and the ankles not giving him much choice in the matter.

The creature came closer with frighteningly calm steps, and slowly bend to reach the god. It grabbed his long raven hair with its vice like grip and pulled, forcing Loki to twist his waist in order to follow the movement, almost blind from the pain in his skull.

 _"You shall obey."_ The creature stated. Loki spit the remaining blood that had gathered in his mouth to its face, only to earn a brutal face-slamming on the cold stone floor. _"You shall comply with the Master's whishes."_ The creature repeated, smiling wickedly, with a mouth full of sharp, black teeth, as it pulled hard on Loki's hair to lift him up again.

\---------------

Loki woke up drenched in cold sweat. His hand shot up to the side of his face, trailing the path that the red lines were supposed to be. There was nothing. The only still visible scars on his pale face were the sixteen small holes surrounding his lips. He licked them, as if he looked for reassurance that this was indeed the reality. Slowly and painfully, due to his still damaged body, he sat up in his bed and reached one trembling hand for the glass Stark always left on the table.

"It wasn't real." He said to himself. The panic wouldn't subdue, the memories from after his fall were still too vivid in his mind to allow him peace. "They aren't here."

\--------------

It wasn't often that it could be said that Loki Laufeyson was scared. On the contrary, he was known for emerging victorious from battles that often seemed lost, with creatures far stronger either in power or numbers. Many were scared of the Trickster but none scared him. He had respect, yes, but fear he was often regarded incapable of. After all, psychopaths do not have the rational mind to feel threatened. But Loki was not crazy. He was intelligent, and often it is not easy to discern between the two. He knew his limits and his abilities, and had the mind to utilize them best. His silvertongue had helped win many battles, and even cause some. He was always in control of the situation, no matter what it looked like.

But this time, he knew that he was overpowered.

His emotions had the better of him. The betrayal of his once-father and the rejection had made him vulnerable, pushed him to irrational and extreme decisions and actions. He hoped that his death could end his suffering. How wrong he was.

The Bifrost was a bridge, one that connected the realms, that traveled faster than light through the void of the universe. Nobody -not even the all-seeing Heimdall - knew what lay between the paths of the bridge. So when Loki fell, he hoped that he would be crashed between the vortex of the paths and find a quick and painless death. Which he didn't. He ended up in a land bare, away from the Nine Realms, where the branches of the Yggdrasil couldn't reach him, couldn't lend him their magic force or let anyone help him. He was alone, helpless and emotionally unstable in the hands of some unknown, brutal creatures.

The leader of said creatures, a thing called the Other, immediately took an interest in the new toy that fell in his lap. He had lots of fun for a while, trying to extract information from the god. Loki didn't budge, but none-the-less, the creature managed to learn that his new toy was from another space. Which was bad. For Loki.

You see, the Chitauri -as those vile creatures called themselves- weren't alone. They would have perished long ago if that was the case. No, they had someone, a benefactor, their king, their Master. They were part of a bigger army, one whose only purpose was destruction for no reason. But they needed power, more power that they already possessed, and their Master wanted it fast. The source was lost in a battle long ago, landed on a different part of space, one that no creature of that army could reach. Except, now they had someone who could. And the Other knew that. So Thanos, the Mad Titan, knew it too. And Loki learned it the hard way.

It took a long time for the Other to break the god's will and even when he managed to crack it, it wasn't enough. So they resulted to different methods. By now, the mind of the once-powerful Trickster was significantly weakened, so it was perfect for their purposes. Their Master provided the god with a staff; one linked with the power source and gave him the power to posses the minds of others. But its power was a double-edged blade. The link that allowed Loki to posses others was connected to Thanos, meaning that all of the energy circulated between them and the staff, and the stronger mind had control over the others through the weapon. Namely, Thanos'. Loki's brain was in no shape to fight back, so he was turned into a puppet. Not a mindless one, but a puppet all-the-same. By the time he started having the slightest of control over his actions, he was already half-way into conquering Midgard, his brother's favorite realm, with Thor and his allies on his ass.

What small control he had was enough to sabotage his torturer's plans, if only for the fun of it. He never wanted to be king, especially over the annoyingly small and weak Midgard, and he wouldn't want now. He knew that the consequences would be dire, but he did it anyway, a small part of him hoping that he would perish at the hands of the Avengers in battle, if only to spare himself the shame of walking Asgard's doors a traitor. This war had nothing to do with him, this time it wasn't for puny and childish reasons. Human lives were lost, hundreds of them, and the destruction scale was off the charts. He never had an interest in humans, magicless creatures were dull, but he was not a mass murderering conqueror. He was above that. But he knew that no one would believe that, especially when it came from the mouth of the Liesmith.

Which didn't because he wasn't allowed to speak. The muzzle that bound his silvertongue wasn't removed during his short trial, banning him from defending himself. And that was way more humiliating than being beaten by a green giant, dragged through the masses by his brother, and thrown in-front of his father, in the mercy of the people. He was a prince but was treated like a common criminal, the bonds that once bound him to the royal family currently forgotten, sentenced to imprisonment without even asked for the facts, for the reason behind the war. It made Loki blind with rage, but when it subdued, he felt desperate. He had nothing left. Not even false bonds.

\---------------

Tony feverishly worked in his workshop trying to take his mind off the last couple of days. He was messing with trinkets and incomplete gadgets for his suits, while challenging himself on how much alcohol he could stuff himself with while still maintaining the ability to work. Honestly, he had impressed himself even. He should really look into that Guinness records later...

A familiar British accent snapped him out of his working trance.

_"Sir, can I suggest that you take a break and allow yourself some food?"_

Tony groaned at the lecturing A.I.

"Shut up, mother. I don't need food."

The A.I. didn't bother to answer since it had achieved its purpose. Tony mumbled something incomprehensible at the ache of his stomach, which he only became aware of after Jarvis brought it up.

"Now look what you did...!" He whined. "Just...order some pizza." He dismissed the subject with a wave of his gloved hand. "The usual stuff from the usual place."

 _"Right away, sir."_ The A.I. sounded almost smug.

\---------------

_"Sir, your order has arrived." ___

"Great! Send it up, Jarvs!" 

Tony dropped the tools on the workbench unceremoniously and, grabbing his best friend -glass with whiskey-, he almost run to the food elevator at the other side of the room to retrieve his pizzas. Whiskey and boxes on hand, he left his workshop to enjoy his unhealthy meal sprawled on the couch in-front of the TV. His hunger had been contained for too long, his troubles had been temporarily forgotten and all brain power was focused on his stomach. He dropped the boxes on the table in-front of the couch and turned on the TV, without really caring on what channel. 

He grabbed a pepperoni pizza piece and took a huge bite off it, when suddenly an idea occurred him. 

"Hey, Jarvis?" He mumbled almost incomprehensibly, while munching on his food. "Do you think our grumpy guest would appreciate some good pizza?" 

_"Sir, I wouldn't suggest-"_ Jarvis started giving his answer, but apparently the question was rhetorical, because Tony was already on his feet heading towards Loki's room, pizzas on hand. 

It wasn't one of his best ideas, but it was the best of what he had to work with, while the alcohol was having a killer-party with his brain-cells. 

Loki was, as always, on his bed starring at the ceiling with tired eyes. Tony barged in the room without knocking, causing Loki to jump upright ready to defend himself, only to clunch at his sides and growl in pain. 

"Oh...sorry..." Tony realized what happened and felt a sudden pinch of guilt. 

Tony's gaze wondered on the tired face of the god. Dark circles surrounded his dull green eyes, and his face was pale and ragged. He looked like he hadn't slept for days, even though he was mostly out of it since he arrived in the tower. 

"Did you need something, Stark?" Loki hissed between clenched teeth hinting something dangerous. 

Tony smiled ignoring the hate in the god's voice. 

"Do you want pizza?" He asked as if offering pizza at your household injured god was the most common thing ever. 

"Excuse me?" Said Loki, with genuinely puzzled expression. 

"Pizza, food, one of the best things human race ever invented. Well maybe after Jarvis and whiskey, but you get my drift." 

Only then did Loki notice the five big boxes on the human's hands. A strong smell reached his nose, originating from said boxes, making his mouth water. He was hungry, true, months of starvation catching up to him, but he wouldn't allow himself to be humiliated by begging for food. He was a god, he may be able to feel hunger, but ignoring it wouldn't do much more that make him slightly weaker and lightheaded. So he opted for dignity and glared at Stark without answering, waiting for the man to do something. 

Tony could practically see the gears turn in the god's head as he remained silent. He hid his smirk and sat on the chair besides the bed, setting the pizzas on the table. 

"Help yourself." He said with indifference, grabbing a second pepperoni piece and stuffing it to his mouth. 

Loki glared from the food to the human and back, before the smell won and he reluctantly reached into one of the boxes and took a piece in his hands. 

"Stark, what are you-" He started asking suspiciously, sniffing at the food without eating it. 

"Oh, just shut up for a moment and eat! you'll like it." 

Loki threw a piercing look at him that stated future murder, but took a small bite off the pizza. He had to restrain himself not to stuff the whole thing in his mouth. 

"Isn't it good?" Tony said smugly, with a wide 'I told you so' grin plastered on his face. 

"Hm!" Loki averted his gaze annoyed, not stopping chewing though. His eyes momentary flashed with that familiar flame of mischief, though they quickly reverted back to the dull defiant ones. "It is not as bad as I expected." He admitted. 

Tony had started giving an answer, when Jarvis suddenly cut him off. 

_"Sir, Miss Potts is here, heading to your location. May I suggest that you take precautions to conceal your guest's identity?"_

"SHIT!" Tony shouted, slotting up from his chair.

"Who is that?" Loki reacted, looking around the room alerted. "Reveal yourself!" 

Tony realized it was the first time the god had heard Jarvis, but there was no time for that. 

"Yeah, Loki-Jarvis, Jarvis-Loki." he announced in an introducing manner. "Jarvis is the tower's A.I., I'll tell you about him later. Jarvis how long before Pepper gets here?" 

_"Approximately five minutes forty-eight seconds, sir. I would suggest to approach her with caution, she's wearing a furious expression. May I remind you that you missed the last press conference, sir."_

"Shit, shit, shit!" Tony stormed out of the room leaving the door open behind him. 

"Stark, what is going on, by the Nine!" Loki shouted behind him, causing him to turn towards the door without stopping. 

"Don't move, don't make a sound! Jarvis, door!" He shouted towards the room, before the door closed by itself, leaving the god alone again with the pizzas. Loki cursed the human and took a second piece out of the boxes, biting it with obvious anger, while glaring at the ceiling as if he expected it to jump him at any moment. 

\--------------- 

Tony's brain was working furiously on the possibilities of a pissed Pepper finding the God of Chaos in his house. None of them had a happy ending in his mind. Before he managed to reach the living room he heard it. 

"Antony Edward Stark!" 

Well, shit. The use of Tony's full name always suggested that a small scale Apocalypse would follow. 

"Pepper!" Tony tried to force out a smile. "What a pleasant surprise!" 

Trying to hide his panic he walked casually towards the bar to pour himself a generous amount of whiskey. Pepper ignored him. 

"Once again, Tony, once again you don't show up, leaving me to clean up your mess! You didn't even call!" 

"I'm seriously sorry, Pepper... I completely forgot about it. I was-" 

"I have no interest in your pathetic excuses, Tony!" Pepper shut him up, shouting. "I can't take it anymore, I'm tired of being your babysitter!" 

She paused to catch her breath and turned to go and collapse on the nearest chair. 

"I can't even properly take my anger out on you, I'm too tired." She indeed looked like hell. "I've spend the last two days working without sleep to cover why the great Tony Stark didn't show up at his own press conference! Everyone was there, except you, Tony!" She exhaled tiredly. 

"It was just a conference..." Tony started getting annoyed. 

Pepper almost chocked. 

"Just a conference...? _Just a conference?"_ She almost shrieked, as she stood up and walked towards him, eyes flaming. 

She was about the same height, if not taller with heels, as the billionaire, something that made her quite intimidating when angered. She stood before him, pointing a finger at his face, anger and exhaustion oozing from her like smoke from fire. Her voice was low and threatening. 

"I will not even bother answering, but I will let you know that Justin Hammer made a complete fool out of you and you company. It was a big loss for Stark Industries that day, Tony, and you should be there to at least humor the board members instead of dumping it all on me!" She was shouting again, her voice echoing in the big room. 

"Why do you get so worked up over _Justin Hammer?_ That moronic idiot can't do a thing, he's tried before and it hardly lasted a week! As for my absence, it wasn't like it was the first time; the board should already be used to it by now!" He shouted back, regretting the words as soon as they left his mouth. 

Pepper's face was dangerously red by now. She opened her mouth, but couldn't form words so she closed it again. A heavy slap across Tony's face covered the loss of words and got the message across. She turned and stormed away, hints of tears gleaming on her eyelids, leaving Tony to drown in his guilt. 

"Congratulations, Tony Asshole Stark, You made her cry. Again." 

Single victim of the whole ordeal -besides Pepper's feelings- was the whiskey glass that got shattered against the nearest wall before the genius made his way back to Loki's room. He didn't even know why he was heading back there but he didn't really care by that point. He obediently followed his feet to the god's door. 

\--------------- 

Loki was finished with his food when Tony slowly opened the door of the room, walked in and closed it again, resting his back against it. The god watched him as he slid down and sat on the floor, back still at the door, and he covered his face with his palms. 

They stayed like that for a long time, one watching the other lost in his self-pity, until Loki attempted to break the silence. 

"What happened?" He asked, poison noticeably absent from his voice. Tony could swear he sounded almost concerned. 

"Like you didn't hear it all." Tony scoffed without moving, voice a bit sore from shouting. 

"I did." Loki replied honestly. "But I dislike making assumptions based on overheard conversation parts, so i would prefer your version." 

Tony didn't answer. Loki shrugged his shoulders dropping the subject. It wasn't like Stark had any obligation to answer him. 

"I disappointed her. Again." Tony finally said, surprising Loki, but not as much as he surprised himself. Why was he still talking to him? And for Pepper non-the-less. 

Loki stayed silent for the other to continue. 

"I keep on making the same mistakes." He colored his words but somewhat exasperated hand gestures."I keep on disappointing the people around me. Different reasons every time but the results are always the same." A deep sigh escaped him. "I was too caught up with all the crazy these days... And then _you_ showed up." He gestured towards Loki tiredly. "I was bound to neglect everything around me." 

Loki flinched at his words. Tony, _of course_ , noticed it.

"It wasn't your fault." Tony removed his hands from his face, looking the god in the eyes.

Loki was once again taken aback by the honesty that glimmered in those tired, pained eyes.

"It wasn't your fault; I should have paid more attention to her."

Loki turned his head from Tony and gave a small nod.

"She sounded like quite a reliable ally. And a formidable enemy." His lips twisted into a small smirk.

"Oh that she is!" Tony smirked back. "She's saved my ass more times than I can count. And I'm quite good with numbers...! If it wasn't for her I'd be lost a long time ago."

The mood seemed lighter already, at least from Tony's point of view. The god acknowledged the answer but didn't say anything. Tony noticed his expression harden a little, but couldn't place reason behind his sudden mood swing.

Loki felt his heart twitch at the inventor's answer. The thought of Stark's trusted companion filled his head with dark thoughts and memories. He never had a person to trust in his life. Not even Thor, before everything that happened, was someone Loki could place his blind faith on. He was always by himself, maybe not literally, but he felt alone, all alone trusting no-one and no-one trusting him. Of course...who would believe the 'God of Mischief', the 'Trickster', the 'Liesmith'? Not even his 'father' believed him when he said he just wanted to make him proud of Loki, to prove himself a worthy son and nothing more. The only answer he had received was a sad and disappointed 'No, Loki.' which made him so desperate that he threw himself from the Bifrost, in a vain attempt to kill himself, to end his own pathetic existence. But then the Chitauri had found him...

Tony watched as Loki stayed silent, head turned to the wall in-front of him. It seemed strange at first, but as the god didn't move at all and suddenly started to slightly tremble, it turned from simple strange to plain concerning.

"Loki...?" Tony asked cautiously as he stood up, fight and Pepper forgotten. The other didn't seem to hear him, so he moved a bit closer. "Loki, are you okay?"

He was now standing next to the trembling god. Tony could see from the expression on his face and the hands clutching at the sheets with white knuckles that some really unpleasant memories were playing in his head. He knew, he had experienced it many times. It wasn't pleasant. Not at all. He was too familiar with the pitiful feeling of despair to simply leave the one in front of him alone. Even if it was Loki, psychotic world dominator yadda-yadda. He gently placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Loki. It's okay. It's safe here." Words were never really Tony's forte. Loki's head snapped to him, staring in fear. Fear turned to confusion, which gave way for shock, only to end up in rage after realization hit in.

"I do not need your pity, Stark!" Loki spat out furiously, brushing the hand off him violently.

He turned his back to his host and lay back on the bed.

"You can leave now, I wish to sleep." He declared coldly and Tony shrugged as he left the room without a word, much to Loki's surprise.

\---------------

Tony had suspected that there was something off with his injured guest but he had never given it much thought. After what he witnessed in the god's room only minutes ago, he realized that it wasn't just plain 'off'.

When he had come face to face with Loki, all those months ago, the god was hardly balanced. He was disturbing really. Bruce had even associated his head with a bag full of cats. But he was strong, smart, with clear purpose and with maybe a bit too much energy for the world's good.

The being on the other room was nothing resembling that. He was weak in body and mind, broken. He was hunted by phantoms unknown to Tony and he was unstable. His sudden mood swings proved his uncertainty and his lack of control over his thoughts and emotions. He was good at hiding it; really, he hardly showed that there was anything wrong with him. But Tony knew better. He needed help.

It wasn't like Tony realized all this because of his amazing perception skills, or psychiatric knowledge. He could see in Loki what he himself had become after Afghanistan, after the war. The only difference was that Tony first had Pepper and Rhodney, and then the whole Avengers team to support him and keep him sane. Loki had no-one. No one at all. He need someone to support him, an anchor to grab on, or he would completely crash, until there was nothing left but pained memories and fear. And he wasn't sure if he was ready to become that 'someone'. Heck, he still debated on whether to hand him over to SHIELD or not.

He run a hand through his hair and took a deep breath. He decided he needed sleep. Immediately.

\---------------

Tony couldn't sleep again that night, his own nightmares flaring up after his confrontation with Pepper. When he closed his eyes he could clearly see the cave, stone walls closing up on him, or the void of the universe, swallowing him up, erasing his existence. Alcohol was the only thing able to dull the thoughts but it still wasn't strong enough to make him forget. The only thing left for him to do was pace around his room, restlessly, trying to distract his brain with complicated thermo-nuclear physics equations. Too tired to sleep, but with too much energy to stay in bed, he finally made up his mind that he wouldn't be able to get any more rest for the rest of the day. So he headed down to his lab, to spend his extra time doing at least something useful.

As he passed through the kitchen, his head turned instinctively towards the long corridor that led to Loki's room. He thought a bit about it and what happened that evening so he decided to check up on the god to see if he was sleeping. Once he arrived in front of Loki's door, he heard small noises come from the inside of the room. He was ready to head back, thinking that the god was awake and he didn't want to disturb him, but what he heard next made him rush into the room. Through the thick wood, a small, almost inaudible sob breached the door and made it to Tony's ears.

When inside the room, he found himself almost scared from the sight of the god before him. Loki's face was twisted in pain, eyebrows kneeled together, and clenched jaw. His teeth were bared and a thin layer of sweat was visible at every part of exposed skin. He was thrusting and kicking at the covers and every now and then a growl -that sounded more like a sob- escaped him.

Tony rushed at his side and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. The god didn't react to the touch, so Tony gave him a light shake.

"Loki. Loki, wake up. Hey."

He could feel Loki's heartbeat through his fingers, so fast that it seemed dangerous. His breaths came out short and fast, as if his lungs didn't have enough capacity anymore. He gave him a harder shove, now starting to panic. Nightmares were never a good thing, physically, but especially mentally. He knew it from experience. PTSD almost always followed victims of torture, and the one laying in front of him had surely had more than his brain could cope with.

"Loki!"

Green eyes shot open, darting around for seconds before noticing Tony. A cuffed hand shot up and grabbed at his neck, strong fingers tightly digging into his flesh, cutting his air supply. The injured god stood up, forcing Tony to take a couple of steps back, ignoring the blood that was again staining the bandages around him.

"L-Loki...! Da...mn..." Tony tried to get through to him in vain, as a second hand grabbed at him, assisting the first in struggling him.

Loki swayed, not releasing his grip on the now almost-blue man. He fell forward, dragging his victim along, landing on top of him, breath heaving, fingers tightening their deadkly grip and eyes shining with unrecognized madness.

"Plea...se..." Tony felt his vision swim, his heart slow down, as the lack of oxygen brought his body to its limits.

He bit his bottom lip hard from the effort to keep awake, causing it to bleed. A small stream run down from his abused lip to his chin and dripped on Loki's hand. Loki blinked, looking at the red stain confused. Tony watched weakly as the madness of the green eyes cleared, replaced by absolute horror. Loki woke up realizing he was killing Stark. He hastily let go of the other's neck and gave him a horrified look, before slowly brought his hands closer to his face, turning his shocked eyes at them, as if accusing them for what happened.

Tony coughed hard, his body arching as he hungrily sucked in as much air as he could, chocking on it. Loki stayed petrified looking at his hands, his face unusually white even for him. Tony calmed down after two full minutes of hard coughing and heavy breathing, and turned his attention to Loki, who still sat on top of him, still as a statue, eyes on his hands.

"Loki?"

His voice was hoarse and his throat hurt, but he could care less. He knew the after-effects of a particularly bad nightmare, he still regretted that bruise across Pepper's face.

Loki' s lips shuddered and his tear-stained face twitched. He slowly turned his eyes to Tony's neck, hand-shaped bruises already forming on the soft flesh. His tears started falling anew, too shocked and ashamed of his actions to care about dignity. He averted his gaze in shame.

"I am sorry..." he whispered lowering his hands."I am sorry...I did not...I..." He tried forming words, but couldn't find any fitting enough to apologize to someone for almost killing them.

Tony reached up and grabbed Loki's arm. He flinched, as if expecting tony to strike him, but he certainly didn't expect his words.

"It wasn't your fault."

Loki' s body went rigid.

"What?" He turned disbelieving to look back at the other man, a small part of him fearing that the extended lack of oxygen had caused some sort of brain damage.

Tony stared back calmly, and with unusual seriousness.

"It wasn't your fault, Loki. It was a nightmare. Don't blame yourself."

"I...I almost killed you, you...!" His voice came out almost accusing and angry, as his tears continued dripping from his face to Tony's shirt.

What in the name of Hel was wrong with this mortal? All he ever told him was that it 'wasn't his fault', even when Loki's fingerprints where clear as if on ink, on the inventor's neck.

Tony squeezed the other's arm, telling him the same thing again, no words this time. And then Loki realized and was left speechless.

He understood. He understood that the man knew, that he could understand him. The hardened spark that was so clear in those eyes was one that only people who had lives difficult and filled with pain carried. Just like Loki. He closed his eyes as he continued crying in silence, when he felt a sudden pull and he ended laying flat on Stark, his face buried in the other's chest, as strong arms closed around him, comforting him. He tensed up for a moment, not knowing how to react, but then relaxed in the embrace, letting it all out, muffling his sobs against the other man. He was too weak to consider how undignified it was for a god to cry like a small child, vulnerable in the arms of his enemy. They stayed like that for what seemed like hours, until Loki's sobs turned to steady breathing, asleep on the man lying on the floor.


	6. Dangerous Burdens

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warning:** Blood, Mentions of torture
> 
> **Disclaimer:** I own not the characters of this story

When Loki woke up again it was already late in the morning, the sun fast on its way towards noon. He shuffled in the soft covers of his bed, letting out a contempt sigh at the warmth. He felt relaxed and rested something he hadn't felt in a very long time. He was back in his chambers in Asgard. In a while, a servant would knock on his door to wake him up and bring him his rich breakfast. It all had been a dream; everything was still the same, still perfect in their peaceful illusion.

Slowly, he opened his eyes to take in his surroundings. The soft yellowish walls of the simple guest room he found to surround him had nothing to do with the golden and green grandness of his chambers. As if a lightning struck him, the memories came back to him in a blurry haze. The pain from his abused body didn't register, as the shock of the previous night's events jolted him up from the soft mattress. He brought his hand to cover his mouth, as he took a few deep breaths to calm himself. How could something like that happen...? How could he have lost control like that...! The shame that washed over him left him trembling, pain and hunger forgotten, with a hollow feeling curling up in his stomach. He had let the mortal see such an undignified and weak side of him... Not to mention that he almost killed the only creature in centuries that had showed him even the tiniest amount of kindness and understanding in the Nine Realms. He couldn't stand it, couldn't stand the memory, the feeling of flesh crashing under his fingers, of himself crumbling in the hands of a mortal, his enemy.

He felt restless. As his breathing slowly calmed down, his senses came back, punishing him for ignoring them for so long. He grunted from between his clenched teeth but didn't budge. The feeling was too unbearable to stay put. Slowly and painfully, he willed himself to stand up from the safety and comfort of the bed, and he tried a few unsteady steps towards the door at the side of the small room, that was obviously a bathroom. He almost collapsed but managed to reach the door frame and hold himself up. One more pause in-front of the mirror above the sink made him want to cry again. His usually shimmering green eyes, were now dull and red, with thick dark circles surrounding them. His skin was a sickly shade of white and his usually sharp cheeks were slightly more hollow, a result of months of lack of sustenance. He was just a tired shadow, a hollow shell of his former strong, proud self. Though it had been quite a while since he had felt like himself, like he had control over his actions and decisions with his mind free of physical and emotional strain, this time he had hit rock bottom, with no means yet to find a ladder to climb upwards.

He opened the tap and splashed cold water to his face, spreading it through his hair with his fingers. The freezing water send chills down his spine, and he hurried to bury his face in the soft towel that hung from the stool next to the sink. While he was indeed born from ice and had frost flow in his veins, he really disliked the feeling of cold on his skin, just like he despised the cerulean form of his true heritage. As he removed the towel from his face, his eyes fell on the cuffs that still framed his wrists as bracelets. He stared at them for a while, missing the pleasant feeling of magic surging through his body, spreading the feeling of being alive into him. Reminding him that there was indeed something he was good at, even if the barbarians of Asgard never appreciated it. The loss of his magic took a great toll on his body and mind, the feeling of missing something vital and the helplessness not helping with his obvious depression.

He stumbled out of the small bathroom and out of the main exit of the bedroom, to the empty corridor. He didn't have a specific destination, nor was he trying to run, but the four walls of the room felt too much like a cage. He briefly wondered if he should search for Stark, but dismissed it immediately. He wanted to be alone. Even though there was no one there, he attempted to save some of his dignity by trying to stand properly and walk straight without limping too much. Didn't really work, the pain of his wounds stinging harshly, like daggers were once again inserted into his frail body. With trembling steps he continued down the corridor, ignoring all the pain and discomfort. That worked better, for a while, until the room around him started spinning. He fell to the side against the wall, desperately struggling to hold himself upwards by clawing the concrete. He fell on his knees, side still against the wall, breath heaving from the strain. His blurred eyes caught sight of something deep red dripping to his grey borrowed pants and leaving small round stains. He weakly lifted one hand to his face, realizing that the blood was coming from his nose. He was stunned. Even with his proud and stubborn demeanor, he acknowledged that he was in a pretty bad shape. He never realized it was that serious though. He tried to stand up again, deciding that his trip outside his room should have to wait, and planning on hurrying back to his bed, but his legs wouldn't listen to him. He fell back down with all his weight crashing on his knees. He wasn't sure if he heard something crack, but he couldn't care at the moment. He had spotted more red on him, this time staining the bandage at his middle and spreading fast.

"...by the Nine...!" he exhaled in an exasperated manner. Last thing that passed his mind before his senses failed him was that Stark would be quite furious by the fact that he would have to stitch him up all over again.

\---------------

Once the hysteric god had calmed down enough he had immediately fallen asleep in Tony's embrace. Tony cradled Loki carefully in his arms and carried him to the bed, covering him with the blanket. His neck and throat still hurt and he was thoroughly exhausted. Still, he couldn't put blame on Loki. The god was damaged; his actions were purely instinctive defense, triggered by the trauma that the torture had caused. The questions that lingered in his mind but he never voiced flooded his mind again. Who had done that to the Trickster? He could imagine Asgard to be ruthless and the punishments severe, but how could Thor stand for something like that? Hell, the god had been fucking raped! How could someone that claimed to still value the villain as his brother and still defended him when everyone was out for him let that happen to his little brother? Unless he wasn't aware of this, in which case even more questions emerged, like how could the prince not know? Or was Loki somewhere where Thor couldn't reach him, in which case, the Thunderer would have lied when he said that Loki would face fair, Asgardian justice. Or was it something else entirely and Tony was missing the main point?

The billionaire rubbed his temples with his thumbs and sighed. He was too tired for this. With heavy steps he dragged himself to his room and collapsed on his bed as an uneasy sleep consumed him.

\---------------

When morning came, the inventor woke up surprisingly refreshed, despite the dreams that still haunted him in his sleep. He dragged himself to the bathroom for the usual morning ritual. He was brushing his teeth when his eyes fell on his neck through the mirror. Two clear, deep purple and blue hand prints covered the skin, leaving no questions to what had happened to him.

"Damn..." How does someone conceal such an obvious evidence? Makeup was not an option -why would Tony Stark have makeup in his house anyway- and he really couldn't stand clothes that restricted his throat, like high neck-lines. He settled for a bandage and a button-up shirt with high collar that hid some of it. It wasn't like he expected anyone anytime within the day, but one can never be too careful.

With his mind and body still half-functional from the sleep, he walked to the kitchen, where his usual mug with black coffee already awaited him. He took it between his hands and moved to the next room, where a couch lingered in front of the huge glass windows that gazed over the oversized city. He crashed on the soft pillows letting himself sink back and relax.

"Jarvis, bring up anything new I should know."

_"Yes, sir. "_

A big holographic screen appeared in front of Tony, Many articles and statistics dancing around before organizing themselves for Jarvis to announce.

_"Actors Robert Downey Jr. and Tom Hiddleston admitted in latest interview-"_

"Pass...! Only the important ones Jarvis..." He cut the A.I. with a sigh. "Jesus, it's like you don't know me at all...! What's SHIELD been up to lately? Any tips about a mad Norse god on the loose?"

_"Nothing indicating that they possess any knowledge about Loki Odinson' s appearance on Earth. They do however plan on experimenting on a new theory of extracting power from the magic scepter to gather information for a new weapon. The plans have been saved into your personal server for later study, sir."_

Jarvis proceeded on filling Tony in the latest Stark Industries news and formal messages from the CEO of the company, Pepper -who was obviously still mad at him. Tony yawned in his palm and gulped down a considerate amount of the bitter liquid. He wasn't ready to be bothered with boring company stuff like meetings and marketing, he wasn't awake enough for that.

"How about the team? " He asked after another lengthy yawn.

_"Mr. Barton and Mrs. Romanoff are currently employed in Italy. They will be back in approximately a week. Mr. Rogers is on standby, currently taking his morning stroll, according to SHIELD surveillance. Mr. Odinson' s whereabouts are unknown and Mr. Banner is currently heading to your location."_

It took a few moments for Tony to register Jarvis's words and almost choke with his coffee.

"HE' S WHERE?"

Jarvis didn't have time to answer before the elevator's slight 'ping' was heard and Dr. Bruce Banner -aka. the Hulk- walked casually in the room with a pleasant smile on his face.

"Tony." He greeted shyly. "It's been a while."

"H-Heya, Brucie! " Tony forced his voice to stay steady and answer cheerfully. "What brings you here?"

"You called me a week ago to invite me over to try that new theory of yours - what was it again? - and told me to come by whenever I could." He said raising an eyebrow at the question. He figured Tony could be drunk again though and didn't push the subject. "So, here I am."

"Yeah...yeah I can see that. Come, sit down, do you want a glass of something? Coffee? Whiskey?" Cold sweat covered Tony' s body and he hoped Bruce wouldn't notice it. He should make sure that Loki was hidden enough, but Jarvis was not an option with the Hulk in front of him.

"Tony...is this a bad time? I could leave, I don't mind."

Tony's first thought was that 'yes please disappear', but Bruce was his buddy, he couldn't kick him out. Not to mention that it would be downright suspicious.

"No, no it's ok" he answered after a short pause.

He walked to the kitchen to pour Bruce a cup of the same black coffee he had and Bruce followed him quietly. The inventor offered his friend and partner the mug and the other accepted it with a smile. His smile turned to a worried sharp look though when his eyes fell on his teammate's bandaged neck. He took a couple of worried steps towards the inventor.

"Tony, what happened to you?" he asked with genuine concern.

Tony looked at him surprised and confused, until Bruce gestured to his neck, waiting for a convincing answer.

"Oh...that. It's nothing... I had an accident with the latest suit prototype. Nothing serious." He made the excuse on the spot, but Bruce looked convinced. Yay for years of experience on slipping away with almost anything due to his remarkable skill of talking his way out of situations like this. Also the team was used to seeing him in bandages from his dangerous experiments by now, which made that all the more believable.

Bruce believed him, but he still couldn't help but worry. It was his job after all, his first instinct as a doctor was to worry when people got hurt, and the second to help them.

"May I take a look?"

Tony flinched.

"Nah, no need it's nothing, really. Let's go, I have a lot of new stuff to show you!"

Bruce frowned but didn't push the subject. He knew Tony could be stubborn -well 'stubborn' didn't begin to describe it actually- so he knew it was a lost battle. He sighed and followed his 'science-buddy' to the labs. He really was curious at what new technologies Tony had cooked up in there.

\-------------

All of the time, Tony was running options through his head. In his mind he knew there was little to no chance that Bruce would come across Loki, since the god was shut in his room, but still he couldn't help it. And he couldn't risk it.

Unfortunately for him, the only way to keep Bruce busy and not draw unnecessary suspicion -the kind of suspicion that breeds unwanted questions and brings a very worried Steve, Pepper and the team in mother-hen mode to the tower- was to lead him to his workshop and present him with his ideas. It'd be great to do that, but there was one tiny and probably not really concerning detail. To go down to his workshop they would have to take his personal elevator. His personal elevator was close to his room. To go to his room, they had to pass through the kitchen, and as a result pass the long corridor that led to an injured god.

But he had no alternatives. So he sucked his worries up and led the way.

\-------------

Loki slowly tried to will his heavy eyelids to open. It was hard, he felt too tired for anything more than a few short and strained breaths. He could feel himself lying on the floor against the wall, his side painfully twisted against the expensive rug that covered the floor of the long corridor. He could feel his blood slipping through the freshly re-opened slash on his stomach, the soft material underneath him slowly but steadily soaking with it, leaving him with a really unpleasant feeling. He couldn't even move his fingers; he had lost too much blood. He didn't know for how long he'd been out, for how long he lay there with his life slowly abandoning ship. With strained effort, he managed to peek through his heavy eyelashes and notice that it was almost dark around him. There were no windows at that part of the tower so no light source unless someone turned it on manually or made Jarvis do it. He tried to use his voice... he may not be fond of Stark but right now he desperately needed him, but no sound could come out. Was it the end? Was his fate to die from blood loss sprawled on the floor like a broken doll...? True, death was what he desired, what he wished for everyday for the past many long months...But...

It was as long as he could keep himself grasped in consciousness. He trailed back into the darkness as a tear rolled unnoticed down his cheek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN- I apologize for the cliffhanger…! xP Hopefully chapter 7 will be ready soon, so you won't have to wait long.
> 
> Not much Tony/Loki interaction this time, and a lot of stupidity from the god, I hope you enjoyed it and it didn't seem much OOC…  
> As I may -or may not- have mentioned before I really enjoy shedding blood in my stories, so I try to drag out situations like this as much as I can, before I go on to the next one. Yeah, expect a lot of blood in this…! Also Bruce is in the picture! (yay for Bruce fans~ ^^) No bromance indented between the 'science-bros' but if you are a fan of that be free to use your imagination~
> 
> Please inform me about any obvious mistakes. Your reviews urge me to write more and more of this!   
> Also ideas are always welcome!!
> 
> Cheers~!
> 
> P.S. It seems that a few people at the other site I post this story got confused about Jarvis not doing anything to alert Tony while Loki is bleeding to death, so I put this extra note here to answer possible questions. Jarvis is programed (ordered actually) to keep Loki's presense in the tower secret. Loki wakes up while Tony is being debriefed by Jarvis (Jarvis didn't inform of that since Tony was busy), and walks out of the room while Bruce arrives at Tony's floor. So Jarvis doesn't get the chance to inform Tony of what's happening with Loki. I'm sorry, I know I should have made the chronological order and general situation more clear. More will be explained in the next chapter. Sorry for the confusion.


	7. Don't Die On Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warning:** Blood, Gore, Triggers
> 
> **Disclaimer:** I own not the characters of this story

Tony tried to walk casually as he approached the kitchen and 'Loki's' corridor. He tried not to flinch as he passed the dark passage, Bruce following lazily after him.

He knew he had to find a way to keep the Avengers in the dark about Loki -one of the five most dangerous super villains in SHIELD's lists- at least until he figured what to do with him. As much as he hated the god for his efforts to subjugate his planet and for killing all those innocent people, he couldn't bring himself not to feel a small ping of pity and understanding towards him. What he had seen and deducted out of Loki's injuries, was that the Trickster got a lot more and far worse than what he deserved for his actions. Tony was game for imprisonment, even for execution, it would be far more fair and merciful. He would never tolerate torture though, not even when used on a being that once had thrown him out of a window. And certainly not after he saw the extent of damage that it had caused on said being.

He stilled dead on his tracks as he passed outside the corridor on his way to the elevator. It could be his imagination, but he was pretty sure there was something on the floor in the darkness close to the wall. What could it be now? The only other person in the tower except him and now Bruce, was Loki. It couldn't be Loki, he was too severely injured to be able to stand up by himself, and according to Jarvis' readings his regeneration abilities hadn't returned yet. So who or what could have broken under Jarvis' nose into the tower...?

He cursed in his head... Ever since Loki had shown up in the tower, his head was a mess. He was constantly worried and losing sleep and now he saw weird things in his own tower?

He masked his worried look and peeked at Bruce that followed close behind him. He didn't seem like he had seen anything. He had to get rid of him to go and check at the corridor. True, if it was anything dangerous, having the Hulk around could prove very wise, but he couldn't risk the possibility of him hulking out so close to Loki and revealing his secret guest. Bruce had to go.

"Oh, shit... Um, Bruce go down without me, I...have to take care of something first. Pepper will kill me if I forget it again." Shitty performance, but the best he could come up with at the time.

"Oh... Do you need any help?"

"No, no... Thank you but I'll manage. Go on, I'll be back in five."

Bruce looked at him with his calm and calculating eyes, before he shrugged and turned towards the elevator. Tony waited for him to disappear at the last turn and hear the elevator's doors close before he rushed back in the kitchen.

Cautiously he walked towards the passage and stepped into the mild darkness, waiting for his eyes to adjust. He could discern a figure sprawled close to the wall, unmoving. His mind raced. He didn't turn on the lights, in case he aggravated whoever -or whatever- the figure was, and slowly he took a step forward.

"Hello?" He asked keeping his voice low and steady. In the back of his mind he knew there was only one answer, but he couldn't believe that the god would be stupid enough to... He could smell it now. That heavy and coppery smell that he despised so much. Blood. A lot of blood.

"Jarvis, lights!" he called out as he was closing in on the figure through the darkness.

Soft lights brightened on the walls and Tony could now see the unconscious figure of the Trickster laying bleeding and unmoving on the floor. The spreading red stain on the carpet underneath him, and the bloody prints on the wall told Tony everything he needed to know.

"Damn you, Loki!"

He run to the god's side, and turned him on his back putting one hand under his head. Loki was completely out of it, and that made the situation even more frustrating.

"Jarvis! What the hell happened here?" he asked the A.I. as he removed the stained shirt and loosened the soaked bandages from Loki's middle.

_"Mr. Odinson woke up and after a brief pause to the bathroom he walked out of his room where he proceeded on collapsing where you found him, sir."_

If Tony could punch the A.I. he probably would at the time.

"And you didn't tell me about any of this because...?" The huge slash that run from Loki's stomach to his lower abdomen had re-opened, the stitches torn around the flesh, making the wound bleed like hell.

_"I didn't see a reason to interrupt you from your debriefing only to inform you of Mr. Odinson's wake, sir. Also Dr. Banner arrived and the protocols that you specified about Mr. Odinson's identity concealment prevented me from alarming you, sir."_

"You could have texted me! On my damned phone!" Tony hissed through clenched teeth. He was furious at the A.I. and frustrated with himself. The wound looked bad and every attemt Tony made of moving or lifting the god made it protest by quickening the bleeding pace.

_"You don't carry your phone around the house, sir."_ Tony could almost hear scolding in that artificial British voice. Almost.

"Run a vitals scan. And make it quick!" He ordered Jarvis. He made an attempt to stop the bleeding by putting pressure on the wound using the shirt, but it only made it worse. He checked Loki's pulse by putting two bloody fingers on the pale neck, and let out a sigh when he felt the weak beat pulsing through his fingertips.

_"Scan complete sir. Heart rate dangerously low and irregular breathing. Mr. Odinson is losing too much blood, you should probably do something about that."_

"I friggin' know that!" He passed his hand through his hair, only to frown in disgust as he remembered that it was covered in blood.

"It's Laufeyson."

Tony stilled. Loki had regained consciousness and was now looking at him through hazed eyes.

"What?" Tony asked, not understanding the meaning of Loki's words.

"Laufeyson... Not Odinson..." His words were interrupted by chocked coughs that did nothing good for the god's current situation.

Tony fought hard not to roll his eyes. Loki could be dying and all he had to say was to deny Thor's family name!

"Yeah, we'll figure that later. I'm going to bring something to fix your idiotic ass up. Why did you have to get up now?" He asked no one in particular.

_"Sir, I should probably inform you-"_

"Not now Jarvis." He snapped at the A.I. as he got up to fetch the medical kit.

"Tony...?"

Tony stilled. So did the Trickster when he realized that there was someone else there. Loki's breath hitched and the color seemed to completely drain from his face. Tony glanced at the god, before slowly turning back to look at Bruce.

"What is going on here, Tony...? Is that...is that Loki?"

The inventor gulped down his fear, as the green shade that had replaced Bruce's brown eyes slowly seemed to spread to his face.

"Bruce... buddy... calm down. I can explain. Please just... calm down." Tony tried to use his calm and reassuring voice, but the panic and knowledge that someone was fucking bleeding to death on the floor behind him didn't help him.

Bruce looked at Loki sharply with his glowing green eyes. Tony noticed it and took a step to block the doctor's view of the god.

"Trust me. Calm down and let me explain."

Tony feared that the Hulk would appear any moment now and smash his head through the wall. But Bruce's self control never ceased to amaze him. The doctor took a few deep breaths as he tried to control the beast that threatened to overcome him. When he had it under control he took a step towards the inventor.

"Explain." He demanded.

"Well-" Tony tried to begin explaining when Jarvis interrupted him.

_"Sir, I believe Mr. Laufeyson is in immediate need of your assistance."_

Tony ignored Bruce and turned back to Loki, who had apparently lost consciousness again. His eyes widened at the amount of blood that had been spilled on the floor during his short moments of his talking to Bruce. He kneeled besides him again checking his breathing. There was none.

"Dammit, Loki!" He hissed putting pressure on his chest to make the lungs functional again, a gesture that caused the still unattended injury to rebel. His hands were painted red, but he didn't notice. How could the god be so stupid? He was fine, only hours ago! Now he seemed even worse than when he had first arrived at the tower.

"Tony..."

"Bruce! Help me out!" Tony called with a desperate tone. He wouldn't let the god die now, not after everything he did to try and fix him up, not until he had succeeded on fixing him up...

Bruce thought of it just for a moment before he run to Tony's side. The sight of the god lend him speechless. Tony was blocking his view, so he didn't have visuals on the blood. Even though he was an experienced doctor he was stunned by the state of Loki...He didn't linger more than a few stunned moments before he, too, was on his knees assisting Tony on reviving Loki.

Bruce grabbed the discarded shirt from the floor and steadily put pressure on the wound as Tony continued the compulsions on the slim chest.

"Don't you fucking dare die on me..." he hissed at the unconscious god as panic kept crawling further in his head. "Come on, dammit...!"

Bruce was an experienced doctor. Having passed the last few years as a doctor-without-borders on the run, severe injuries were nothing new to him. He easily succeeded in stopping the blood flow enough for Tony not to cause more damage as he worked keeping his attention on the wound. His observant eyes didn't miss the expression on Tony's face as the god continued giving no response. He said nothing though.

They continued feversly for almost a full minute, Tony being too stubborn to admit defeat. A loud gasp and coughing came from Loki as he sprang up from the force and the pain, successfully hiding the loud relieved sigh that escaped Tony's lips. Tony hurried to steady the god grabbing his arms to prevent him from moving too much. Bruce sprang into action gesturing Tony to continue keeping pressure on the wound, as he examined Loki, who now heaved as he gasped for air. His eyes were unfocused and his face seemed almost gray in color.

"Loki, can you hear me? The doctor asked as he checked his pulse.

Loki gave no response except a small shudder that broke the line between his heavy breaths.

"Loki, I repeat, can you hear me?" Bruce said again, a little louder this time.

Loki slowly turned his head to look at the doctor. His eyes were pained, weary and defeated, causing Bruce to wonder just what the hell had happened. A simple nod answered the question and Bruce snapped out of it to continue with his examination.

He waved a finger in-front of his eyes, took his pulse again and examined the wound.

"This needs stitches immediately, before it gets worse." he said turning to Tony, who just stood there silent while supporting Loki with an arm around his shoulders, allowing the god's head to rest against his own shoulder. He simply nodded with a stern expression, hand still keeping the cloth pressed on Loki's stomach

"Jarvis will lead you to the medical kit, I have one in my bathroom. I'd go, but..." He gestured at the still bleeding god in his arms apologetically. He couldn't move in danger of stirring the wound. Bruce nodded back and left, following the voice from the ceiling.

_"This way, doctor Banner. First door to your right."_ Tony could hear Jarvis giving directions to Bruce as the doctor stood up and left him alone with the god. He turned to Loki.

"You okay?" He asked casually.

Loki didn't bother to open his now closed eyes to spare him a look.

"I'm fine." He simply answered, his tone and raw weariness in his voice indicating the complete opposite. He was shivering now, near-death -well actual death for a bit- experience adrenaline wearing off letting him exposed to the painful after effects and realizing that everything would soon be over. SHIELD would take him, either to lock him away and do whatever simple minded but quite creative humans did to outer-space world conquerors, or simply return him to Asgard where he was certain to be found out and reclaimed by the Chitauri. There was nowhere to run to, no way to escape his now certain doom. An unintentional whimper escaped him, but his still fogged mind didn't register it. He hated it, hated his weakness, hated his fate, hated himself. He just wanted it to be over, to be finally allowed some peace, no matter in what form.

Tony heard the whimper leave the Trickster's lips and looked at him concerned. He tightened his grip around the thin shoulders, cradling him closer to him in an attempt to comfort him. He still didn't know why he felt the need to help and protect the god, but didn't question it and instead acted on those instincts.

"Don't worry about Bruce." he said, his voice low and steady. "I'll talk to him. He's a good guy, he'll understand. He won't say anything to SHIELD."

Loki did open his eyes this time, even if they were weak and blurry. He felt his vision spin from the blood loss, and tried to escape the awful sensation by leaning his head further onto Tony.

"You don't know that." he said with his raspy voice.

"I'll talk to him." he repeated in a light tone, as if the fact that he would even utter a word to Bruce would be enough to convince him.

Loki didn't have the strength to argue so he just focused on steadying his breathing. Bruce arrived two minutes later, medical kit on hand, and didn't waste any time to kneel besides the fallen god.

"This is going to hurt." He warned before grabbing and sterilizing a needle and thread.

Loki gulped down a lump that had forced it's way to his throat as he saw the tools. He still hadn't forgotten his latest experience with needles and thread, and it would take a long time to make the sensation from his lips go away. He nodded weakly, wishing that he would simply pass out and be spared the pain.

"Just get over with it..." he said defeated and clenched his jaw, waiting for the agony.

Bruce removed the cloth and with gentle hands pressed the two sides of the teared flesh together before he stuck in the needle. His moves were quick and precise, but the pain was still pain. By the time he had finished, Loki was soaked in sweat and breathing heavily. Tony had given his hand to the god to hold in an effort to distract him and now really hoped he wouldn't have to put the bones back in their proper place.

"We should move him to a bed." Bruce said as he gathered the madical supplies back in the box and discarded of the used needle.

Tony nodded and maneuvered Loki's arm around his shoulder while he put his own on his middle, as he struggled to lift him. Loki gasped and grunted as the pull aggravated his new stitches, but he didn't have the strength to protest, so he just let himself be handled by his savior. He was terrified of the man in-front of him He had met the force of the being inside him before, and it was an experience he never wished to go through again. But even though terror clawed it's way to his heart -terror for the beast, terror for SHIELD, terror for the Chitauri- he felt safe. Unconsciously, he felt the man besides him as someone that could help, that could provide support. He felt safe. Even though he knew it was an unreasonable feeling, he had no control over it.

Tony dragged the god to his room -Bruce following silently behind them- and laid him carefully on the bed. Loki was out like light before his head even hit the pillow. Tony sighed and tugged the soft blanket around him, before turning to Bruce and gesturing him towards the kitchen. He had a lot of explaining to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN- I’m sorry for this chapter…! Both because it took so friggin’ long and because I personally think it’s kind of the worse one till now. Writer’s block sucks universal *ss…!  
> Credits for this chapter go to my friend, VYCTAZ— I wouldn’t be able to properly sit down and write it if she didn’t threaten me with food…! xD   
> I’m almost completely out of plot ideas so suggestions are more than welcome!  
> Till next time~


	8. Suffocating Darkness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warning:** PTSD, Mentions of Torture, Mentions of Rape
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** I own not the characters of this story

They were in the kitchen now. Tony didn't turn to Bruce as he walked towards the coffee machine. He could really do with a glass -or a bottle- of good scotch right now, but he knew he had to be sober in order to convince Bruce, so he didn't push his luck.

Bruce didn't say a word, didn't ask a question, just locked his searching eyes on the man and waited for an explanation. He couldn't imagine what reason Tony would have for housing a war criminal, even if said criminal was dying for unknown reasons. He was sure that the inventor was fully aware how the situation seemed from his point of view. Tony was his friend though, first one in a long time, the least he could do was to give him the benefit of the doubt. So he just waited, patiently, for the man to gather his bearings and speak up.

\---------------

Tony cleared his throat, searching for words. 

"So..." He took a deep breath. The doctor's strong gaze silently urged him to go on and speak already. He knew he was testing his friend's patience and trust, he still needed to clear up this mess. 

Tony carefully explained with horrifying details how the god had suddenly turned up in the tower nearly a week ago, covered in his own blood and looking -in all honesty- in the brick of death. He described the way the God's body looked, the countless cuts and gashes, the way the blood flowed from him like somebody had forgotten to turn off the tap. Bruce listened carefully, without interrupting. He was determined not to make any assumptions before the engineer finished talking. Despite his calm demeanor though, he couldn't help the horrified exhale and widening of his dark eyes when his friend reached the part where he had to explain (in perfect disgusting detail) how the god's lips were sewn shut with apparently cursed thread beneath the muzzle that was still strapped on his face. And by the time Tony mentioned how Loki seemed -and according to him was- malnourished to the point of not having any food or water for months, possibly since before the attack, he was just shaking his head in disbelief. When Tony finally finished his explanation he looked at Bruce hopefully. 

Bruce closed his eyes and sighted deeply before reopening them. For long moments he said nothing, staring at the counter in thought. 

"Bruce..." Tony tried.

"I...understand what you're saying." Bruce finally spoke. "And I understand why you aided him. I would have done the same." A relieved smile spread across the scientist's face. "But."

Relief was immediately replaced with a worried frown. "But?"

"Tony, honestly, I don't believe it's a good idea to keep him here, hidden from SHIELD."

Tony looked at him like he had suddenly grown a second head.

"What are you suggesting, Bruce?" He asked with a frown. "That I turn him over to SHIELD and pretend nothing happened? Since when are you such a good little soldier? That's something I'd expect from Spangles, not you."

"It's not about SHIELD or Loki. I don't trust SHIELD as far as I can throw them -and I mean me, not the other guy- but there is just so much we can do. It's about safety, precaution. He is a psychopath, Tony. Have you already forgotten what happened the last time he was on earth?" Bruce said, tapping a finger on the counter nervously.

"Of course I haven't forgotten what happened. The destruction, the losses. But it's in the past. We all have shed blood, one way or another, intentionally or not. Me, you, even the pure pretty-boy from the 40’s. I don’t even bother mentioning SHIELD and their lackeys. Everyone deserves a second chance, Bruce. Do not tell me you still believe that this is some fucking grand scheme to take over the world again. You saw him! Your hands were painted with his blood! The guy is barely breathing, much less scheming against humanity."

"No, I don't believe he is faking it. But what guarantee do we have that he won't turn against us -you- after he's all up and running?"

"Trust me; it won't be that easy for him to do so. You didn't see him."

"Tony..." Bruce was clearly getting annoyed. The conversation was getting nowhere.

"No, Bruce, this is not up for negotiation. Fury may be on our side -for now at least- but you haven't seen what I have. Do you know what they'll do to him if they get their hands on him? You think alien weapons out of a glowing tube are the only secret those fucking bureaucrats have hidden in their closet? He'll be dead in a week. Maybe even less. Say, did you know that they have been experimenting with gamma radiation mutation?" He changed the subject so suddenly that Bruce barely had any time to process the new information.

Bruce's face went pale as he looked at Tony, mouth open as if he wanted to protest. The green glint of his eyes giving away his fury at the news. Tony continued.

"Yeah, no success there though. All test subjects are dead."

Bruce couldn't suppress the green shade that took over his features upon hearing that.

"It wasn't your fault, Bruce." Tony said seriously. "Nor was my intention to make you feel guilty. But do you see where I'm coming from? I-- We, can't trust them with something like this, not if we still have some conscience left. And I'm not about to throw to the dogs what little I have left. The villain in question may be Loki --big scary guy with antlers, trying to take over the earth with his magic hocus-pocus possession thingy, alien army yada yada-- but he still didn't deserve that!" A small pause. "He was fucking rapped, Bruce. Tortured and _raped_. How can anyone deserve that?"

And no matter how many times he said it -in his head, to himself, to Bruce- he still couldn't digest the fact that something like _that_ had been done to Loki. Because he, too, had been captured and held in a dark and cold place, abused and tortured on daily basis. He still, after years had passed since his abduction, refused to have his head completely under-water, be it in a pool, in his bathtub or washing his face. Hell, he even felt uncomfortable to be under the rain! But even with all that -the pain, the cold, the helplessness that had him squirming in the clutches of his captors- his abductors even with all their greed and sadistic impulses and mindless killing, they still didn't ever touch him that way. Even though it was no problem for them to simply reach out and take, they didn't even consider it. They just wanted their weapons. They would torture him, beat him into obedience and then kill him, but they wouldn't defile him. It wasn't simply inhumane; it was _outrageous_ even as a mere thought.

Bruce said nothing. Just stared at Tony, taking in the emotions that played behind his hard face with every new information he revealed. He knew enough of the engineer's past to understand why he would react like that to the fact that Loki was tortured. And he had to admit, the situation was worse that he imagined. When he was patching him up he recognized the signs and knew about the torture part before Tony said anything. But rape? No, that he didn't expect. Tony matched his glare, waiting for his decision. Bruce sighed.

"Alright, alright... I get it. Loki stays here. SHIELD stays out of it as far as I'm concerned" He said, raising his hands in defeat.

Tony beamed a relieved grin at his friend. "Thanks buddy." 

Bruce gave him a nod of recognition and a small smile. If Tony was so persistent in protecting the god, what could he do to change his mind? Nothing. So he just accepted the fact, however reluctant to trust the Asgardian, and moved on. They sat across each other in comfortable silence for a bit each slowly shipping their coffee.

"So...." Bruce suddenly broke the silence. "What you said...About SHIELD and gama radiation. How did you know? I doubt fury allows you anywhere near such information."

Tony’s eyes lit up and turned to Bruce with a cocky smirk plastered on his face.

"I might or might not hack SHIELD's servers every now and then. No, scratch that. I do it every second Tuesday and weekends."

"And Fury hasn't caught you yet?"

"Nick certainly overestimates his firewalls."

"They supposedly have the best systems out there. They _are_ one of the world's best top secret organizations." Bruce commented with an amused rise of his eyebrow.

"What can I say, I'm easily bored."

The doctor shaked his head, unable to hide his smile. 

"I'd pay to see Fury's expression if he figures it out."

"No need, I'll send you the video feed on facebook." Tony replied casually.

\---------------

_The muzzle was back on his face. He could feel the cold metal wrapped tightly around his chin and cheeks, ripping through the soft flesh and leaving dripping red marks speeding down his neck. His whole body was numb, the only recognizable sensation being the tickling as the blood run down from his face to his chest. He didn't know if there was any more damage done on him, but refused to open his eyes to confirm for himself. The darkness behind his closed eyelids and the absolute dead silence fell heavy upon him, stretching out his perception, ripping him from his sense of space and time. He floated in the bubbling darkness that engulfed him and wished he could sink further and further in it, until no one was able to find him again. The weight and pressure of the darkness increased, as if it responded and complied with his desires. Suddenly he was unable to move, to breathe, to think. He panicked. That dark monster that took life from his instincts roared and ripped his insides screaming in his head for him to do something, to protest, to escape, or else he would die, die, DIE!_

_Loki screamed behind the scarring metal, though no sound came out, and sprung up from his position in the liquid darkness, his eyes opening widely in the cold prospect of death. He wanted to escape, wanted it to end, but he couldn't die... No, he must survive... Why did he need to escape again...? He was free, alone, peaceful... He blinked to chase the darkness that hung on his eyelids preventing him from taking in his surroundings. To no avail._  
 _Everything was dark. He felt that he was seated against hard floor, but there was no temperature to give him any indication of where that floor could be located. He was sailing in the pitch darkness of the void, helpless, powerless, alone... Why? What was going on...? He tried to reach one hand to wipe the blood that had somehow reached his belly, but discovered he wasn't able to. His hands were completely useless, securely pinned in place with invisible restrains. As were his legs and head. His breathing was ragged through his nostrils, and tears almost made it to his eyes. He felt a memory in those restrains, like a déjà-vu, one that he couldn't quite place but felt it all the same.  
And then his blood froze. The quiet laughter of sick delight echoed around through the thick darkness before it reached him, throwing every speck of light in his once hopeful and strong heart in a dark pit of despair. He recognized the one he was once forced to call Master, as the Mad Titan closed his evil clutches around his frail body once again, pinning him in place while thousands upon thousands of piercing needle-like daggers forced themselves through his flesh..._

This time his scream echoed in the room. He heard someone's heavy breathing and sobs, and it took him several moments to recognize them as his own. His breath hitched, before he rolled to his side -nearly falling off the bed- and vomited violently on the floor. His hands clutched desperately at his middle, the spasms of his muscles sending waves of agony to his every nerve. Cold sweat drenched his whole body, his hair plastered on his face and neck, tears making their way down his face. He was unable to hold back the sobs and whimpers that overtook him. The memory of the brutal tyrant send violent shivers of terror across his limbs, making them impossible to control to climb back on the bed. So he stayed like that in the darkness of his room, half hanging face down from the bed, weak, trembling, crying and, for the millionth time, wishing he could somehow disappear, end this, put a stop to his pathetic existence.

The door opened allowing soft light from the hall slip into the room, falling directly on his face. A person barged in, running to him, followed by a slightly taller figure, though Loki had no mind to process them. Two strong hands wrapped gently around his face, slowly lifting it to look at him. He blinked through his constant tears and in his haze managed to recognize the familiar goatee of one Tony Stark. A loud, exhaled sob escaped him in his relief as he was lifted and was engulfed once more by those strong arms, allowing him to drown in the man's warmth as soft reassurances were whispered in his hair. Loki couldn't stop shivering, the dark scars from after his fall from the Bifrost consuming him, still strong in his mind and body. The darkness and cold and pain and hopelessness... He buried his face in Tony’s neck, in an almost unconscious effort to keep the darkness away, and the arms held him closer, tighter.

\---------------

Tony had run to Loki’s room when Jarvis told him that he was needed. He expected bad, nightmare bad, but not the devastated mess that was the god when he and Bruce got to him. He run up to him, taking his ashen face in his hands. The god was trembling, panicked breaths escaping from the thin lips, as he slowly lifted him from the clearly painful position he had fallen into. The beautiful green eyes were dark and heavy with tears, but he the glint of recognition obvious as he left out a breathless sob. Tony didn't hesitate to wrap his arms around the god, holding him close.

"It alright, you're alright. It was a dream, just a dream, you're safe..." Tony whispered sweet nothings as he turned to exchange a look with Bruce, who had followed closely behind him in the room. Bruce's frown and serious line that were his lips told him that the doctor had started to realize just how bad the situation was.

He turned his attention back to Loki, who didn't seem able to calm down despite Tony’s efforts. Loki was hyperventilating, and he pushed his face against the crook of Tony’s neck, as the memories flooded his hazed mind once more.  
Tony tightened his grip on the broken god, slowly tracing his fingers across his back. 

Bruce stayed for a bit to make sure Tony had everything under control before he nodded towards his friend and turned on his heels to walk back in the living room.

Tony carefully lifted his other hand to stroke the god's hair. It seemed to effectively sooth him, as the shaky, uneven breaths slowly descended to slower and heavy ones. His trembling hands that were clasped on Tony’s shirt like his life depended on it slowly eased their death grip and the god lifted his head a bit, eyes downcast.

"Better?" Tony asked even though he already knew it was not.

Loki hesitated before he gave a single weak nod, desperation oozing out of him. Tony wanted to help him, but knew nothing of the terrors that ravaged the god's mind. He had nothing to work with. His hand moved by itself and rested on Loki’s pale cheek, ignoring the hard flinch of the god and moving his thumb to gingerly wipe the wetness that stained them when the god didn't make a move to move away.

"Come on, let's get you cleaned up." He said suddenly hoping up and moving to help Loki stand up and walk towards the small bathroom. 

Loki didn't protest, but his wounds did, and Tony had to take most of his weight in order for the god not to collapse on the spot. They slowly reached the bathroom and Tony let Loki to hold on to the sink, but that seemed the only thing the injured god was able to do. Tony took in the tremble that shaked the battered body and he couldn't figure out if it was mostly from fear or weakness. Probably much of both. He put a hand on the small of Loki’s back to steady him, and with the other he opened the tap and let the water run. Carefully, he cleaned the sweat and tears from god's face and neck as best as he could, running wet fingers through the raven hair and doing his best not to make him uncomfortable. He knew how humiliating it felt not to be able to do nothing on his own, to be so dependent on other people to do the simplest of things... Once again he thanked Pepper for her tolerance and understanding. If it wasn't for her he'd already be done for. His nightmares would have devastated him and he'd probably have killed himself from alcohol overdose. He glanced at Loki’s face. The green eyes avoided him and if Tony didn't know better he'd have fallen for the thin mask of impassiveness on his face. In truth, Tony knew the god was on the verge of tears. Weakness felt so wrong on the once powerful being besides him. 

He grabbed a soft towel from the stand and wiped the water form Loki’s face before helping him back in the room. The god stilled when he realised they were headed back to the bed.

"No..." The words, softer than a whisper, almost didn't reach Tony’s ears. But they did, and the terror in them made an alert ring in his head.

"What?" He asked carefully.

"Please, don't... don't leave me here." The words strained out of the Trickster's mouth and his hands grabbed Tony’s sleeve. "I don't... Please..." 

Loki lowered his head in shame. Tony bit his lip. Of course the god wouldn't be able to stay alone with the nightmare still fresh on his mind.

"Want me to stay with you? You have to lie down Loki, your wound--"

"No, please...! These walls.... I can't be here... I can't... Please...! In the dark I... I can still feel his hands...!"

Tony stilled. Of course. Of course he still would. A wave of dread and fury washed over the engineer while Loki realized what he had just said. The god's breath hitched and he went perfectly still, trying to school his features back together from his shocked expression and somehow make the last five seconds delete themselves. He gritted his teeth in shame, unable to hold back the terrified trembling of his body. His eyes were focused on a spot on the floor by his feet, ways away from where Tony’s critical gaze could find them. 

He felt a strong hand clasp at his wrist and not much later gentle fingers cupped his jaw and lifted his head up. He still kept his eyes away though, fearing the disgust and mock on those piercing brown orbs.

"Look at me." 

The words were spoken softly, too softly, and Loki couldn't help but snap his eyes toward the direction of the voice. His eyes found Tony’s and he was surprised to find nothing of what he expected. Instead those eyes burned with anger for him and understanding, something Loki wasn't at all used at, at least not from someone that wasn't his family, not from his (former?) enemy.

"What happened to you wasn't your fault, and you certainly did not deserve it. Not even your crimes against the earth were worth such a punishment. You understand me?"

Loki gulped and gave a sharp nod against the man's hand, unable to block his shock and relief at those words from pooling in his eyes. The engineer's eyes softened and he let go of Loki’s chin.

"Good." He gave a small squeeze at the body wrist. "Don't worry about it anymore, you are safe here." He added turning away from the god. He shifted his hold in order to be able to hold the Trickster's weight once more, and turned to lead him towards the living room.

Loki took in those long awaited words and gracefully let the man lead his way out of the suffocating room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN- I cannot apologize enough for my overly long absence. I know how it feels to wait for an update for so long and I know it’s not a nice feeling. To those still reading this, I am so sorry…!  
> On another note, ideas for future chapters are still very welcome and a huge help. Thank you to those that give me ideas, suggestions or requests. They help me give some shape to the smoky substance that this fic is in my head…!  
> I cannot say when the next chapter will be out. This story needs a strong slap from Lady Inspiration to be written and I’m starting to believe she’d prefer to ignore than hit me. Still, I managed to patch up the many pieces that this chapter used to be and make it into somethingdecent enough. (It seems that traveling by bus does it for inspiration strike. Boredom works miracles at this…!)  
> Anyway, thank you for reading! :D  
> See you next time!  
> Cheers~!


	9. Coffee And Herbal Tea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** I own not the characters of this story

Tony carefully led Loki to the living-room where Bruce had taken a seat and waited patiently with his coffee. His brain was a tad too late to realize what he was getting into. Slowly, memories of the Loki-shaped crate on his floor came back to him, followed by the satisfied grin of the Hulk as he gazed upon it after the battle. Tony knew the "other guy" wasn't a threat to Loki, not anymore, but Loki didn't. And it was confirmed when Loki’s gaze landed on Bruce sitting comfortably on the armchair before them. The suppressed scream of terror came out as a sharp exhale, and the dilated eyes of the god suggested just how clearly he still remembered what Banner's alter ego was capable for. Tony held him firmly to prevent him from scrambling backwards and running away, hurting himself in the process, as the god clearly intended to do, judging by the way he struggled against Tony, his eyes never leaving Bruce. Tony glanced at the doctor, who did his best to appear calm and peaceful, before turning to Loki.

"Loki, he's not going to hurt you. Calm down, please." He spoke in a friendly and calm tone as he struggled to keep his hold on the panicking god. "Tell him, Bruce!" He added as Loki seemed to ignore him.

Bruce took a deep breath before he spoke.

"He's telling the truth, Loki. I'm not going to hurt you. Nor is the other guy, I have him under control." he said in a soft voice. A thought came over him and he hurried to reassure the god before he had a chance to speak.  
"Tony explained the situation to me, and I am on his side. I will not let SHIELD know about you, as long as you do nothing suspicious or turn against us." Tony gave him a look. "What, I'm being honest here. Honesty is good for trust isn't it?" He said with a glare as Tony rolled his eyes.

Loki stopped struggling when he realized that the beast wouldn't come out to get him. He eyed Tony warily, who gave him a warm, reassuring smile, and allowed the engineer to guide him to the couch where Loki sat down, as far away from the doctor as the couch allowed. They were still in the same room so that counted for something, didn't it?

Tony sat down besides the god and searched for something to break the silence. He had nothing. Loki was curled up in himself on one side of the couch, his arms around his middle in a defensive manner, and probably because the stitches still hurt like hell. Bruce was relaxed in the armchair with his still steaming mug on hand, trying to reassure the injured member of the group by not turning his attention on him. And Tony still tried to summon his nonsense talk abilities in order to lighten the mood. The awkward silence stretched for long minutes until Tony couldn't take it anymore. He sat up from his slumped against the couch position and turned to Loki.

"So, do you want something to drink? Maybe some coffee? I swear, you'll love the stuff. Everyone loves coffee. You can put sugar or milk in it or--"

"Tony, he's just woke up from a nightmare, I doubt caffeine would be the best thing right now. Make him some tea." Bruce cut off Tony' s awkward rumbling with an annoyed smile. "Loki, would you like some tea? It'll help you relax." He addressed Loki again, careful not to upset him with any sudden movements. It was his usual behavior when dealing with someone that feared the beast, and Loki was no exception. Loki looked at the doctor and gave a hesitant nod. He liked tea, if tea on earth was the same as what he used to drink on Asgard. The thought of his old home send dread crawling over him and he suppressed a shiver.  
Neither of the men noticed.

"Alright. Tea it is. Jarvis, do we have any?" He asked the electronic butler with a sigh.

"I have stocked your kitchen's drawer with some herbal tea leaves of my own." Bruce informed him before the AI could respond. Tony frowned.

"When did that happen?"

"Last month. You should have more stuff in your kitchen than coffee reserves. It's not healthy you know. Trust me, I'm a doctor." he added with a small smirk.

"The way you announce that makes me want to avoid you for some reason, doctor." Tony replied with a raised eyebrow.

Bruce glared at him.

"Never ignore a doctor's words, Tony." A small smile spread on his face. "I'll tell Pepper." He deadpanned taking another sip from his cup.

Tony visibly paled at that.

"That's cheating, Bruce!" He complained with a pout, storming off to make the tea.

"It works though, doesn't it?" Bruce smirked, but only Loki could hear it. 

A small amused smile spread on the god's face. It's been a while since he'd been able to find something amusing. The smile felt foreign yet nice on his lips. He felt the small scars around his mouth stretch and sting, but he relished the feeling. It made him feel grounded.

If Bruce noticed the change on Loki' s usual mask, he didn't comment on it. He felt a warm feeling spread in his chest though, knowing that he'd made someone that feared him smile. He was tired of people fearing him, scream and run in his presence and generally of being viewed as a mindless war killing machine, even in his normal form. Tony was his friend, not only because they shared intelligence and passion for science and technology, but because the engineer was the only person ever since he had been infected with Gama radiation that didn't cower or avoid him -or worse- while knowing of his 'situation'. Instead he had greeted him warmly on their first meeting, announcing that he was a fan of his work and of the other guy. And then instead of going out of his way to ensure that the doctor remained in a peaceful and stress free environment, he'd started pocking him with sharp objects. That wasn't all that fun, and was, quite frankly, stupid, but it felt good to have someone take interest in him like that. And he enjoyed the inventor's company, so it wasn't long before they were known, among the Avengers at least, as the "science bros'. Yeah, it felt good to have a friend that, when he said that he could control the beast, actually believed and trusted him on his word. Not even SHIELD did, and they were the ones that had searched him out and recruited him.  
\--------------- 

Tony came back with a hot, steaming cup in one hand and two huge bowls of something that smelled deliciously, one on the other hand and one balanced between the crook of his elbow and his chest.

"Here's the tea," he said handing the god the steaming beverage, "and here is dinner!" He announced happily, placing the bowls with the fresh pop-corn on the table between them and the huge television screen that covered half of one of the walls of the room. "And you know what pop-corn for dinner means don't you?" He added with a face-splitting grin.

"Movie night." Bruce provided, rolling his eyes.

"Yup! Loki." He turned to the confused looking god. "Ever watched a movie before?"

The god just stared at him, having absolutely no idea what he was talking about. 

"I'll take that as a no. Bruce, any preferences?"

"Something light and trigger-free." Bruce replied pointing at Loki with his eyes.

"Hmm... Star Wars?"

"How on earth do you find that anything _near_ 'light and trigger-free'?" Bruce exclaimed exasperated. "Put on some Disney." 

"A Disney fan are we, Brucie?" he mocked jokingly.

"Is there a problem?" Bruce raised a critical eyebrow that suggested he was completely serious about it. Tony pouted.

"But I wanted explosions....!" 

"Tony."

"Fine!" He surrendered. "Cartoons it is. Which one?" 

Bruce thought about it for a bit, stealing a few glances of the god, who had been watching the conversation go back and forth like it was a tennis match, whipping his head from one to the other as they took turns.

"How about Hercules?" He finally reached a decision.

"Sure." Tony had completely given up at this point. "Jarvis,"

 _"Right away, sir."_

The TV screen lit up and the lights lowered. Tony offered Loki one of the bowls and placed the other between him and Bruce. And the movie started.

\--------------

Loki was absolutely stunned by the plethora of sounds and colors that came out of the huge flat screen. He stood completely still, occasionally reaching out to grab a handful of food from the bowl in-front of him -a food he found out he absolutely loved- while staring at the flashing screen. Tony watched the god watch the movie, not really paying attention to the colorful images himself, preferring the entertainment Loki's different reactions and expressions provided. It was a rare sight on Earth, to find a person who had never seen an LG screen before. The stunned expressions and small surprised sounds just when the movie started were priceless. After a while though, he seemed to be getting used to the concept, and his surprised reactions slowly calmed down.  
It was a while later that Tony actually noticed the emotion in Loki’s face. He seemed darker than before, distant, like trying to concentrate on the movie but not actually succeeding.  
"Loki?" he tried. Loki flinched, like Tony’s voice brought him back at the present. "Is everything alright?"  
Loki stared at him for a few moments, before he turned back to the screen.

"It's nothing." He said quietly while shaking his head. "It's just this..." he motioned at the screen "... demigod, he reminds me of Thor." He rested his chin on his knees, folded tightly against his body, while looking at the screen with an expression that Tony would definitely associate with a kicked puppy. Not that he would ever call it that in-front of the god.

Tony looked at him with concern before turning and exchanging a look with Bruce, who had also stopped paying attention to the movie by that point.

"Are you okay though?" He asked. "Do you want us to put on another movie? There are plenty more--"

"No, it's... okay. I like this one." Tony would swear he saw the tiniest of smiles creep on Loki’s face.  
They took the god's word and didn't ask anymore, but it was obvious their attention was once more on him, carefully observing for any signs that something was off.

\---------------

It was a little over an hour later that the ending titles started playing at the screen. Loki had long since fallen asleep by then, slightly leaning towards Tony until exhaustion overtook him and his head rolled against the other's chest. Tony didn't mind. He even placed an arm on the lean shoulders at one point, carefully holding Loki against him, making sure the god was in a comfortable enough position as to not stir any wounds.  


The last of the titles rolled out of sight, and as on cue, the screen flashed off and the lights illuminated the room. Tony was dozing off too by that point, his head lightly placed on the god's. Bruce was leaning back on the armchair, long cold mug loosely held between his palms. It was such a peaceful night. Until--

A very unmanly scream (totally girly screech) echoed in the large room. Tony woke with a startle, subconsciously pulling the god to him, just before the arrow flying for Loki’s head is impaled on the couch cushions, just centimeters away from the raven head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN- Once again, I cannot begin to apologize for my tardiness to get this chapter done. I had pretty much the whole chapter planned out for a long time, but I couldn’t get myself to write it down as I wanted to. And then it happened. I… kindofgotsuckedintheMerlinfandom…! And I kind of lost the frostiron feelings… So please forgive me if the last bit of the chapter is a little… _off._ Credits for this chapter (and more to come) to all those who reviewed here and on FF.net with suggestions! :D 
> 
> GreenLoki, Name, iheartloki, Tony’s Loki, KittyGrell, The Psychotic Queen;  
> Thank you guys!
> 
> I still don’t know when next chapter will be out, but I do have a plan for it. :D Suggestions are still more than welcome! 
> 
> See you next time~!


	10. Scarlet Hints

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** I own not the characters of this story
> 
> **Warnings:** Gore, Blood

The thundering steps of the Golden God echoed across the palace walls, as Thor made his way to the dungeons in haste. It was a little more than twenty-four hours ago that the alarm bell went off, alerting the whole palace of the Trickster's escape and Thor had yet to visit Loki's cell. He had listened to the report of the guards that had discovered the scene -apparently Loki had somehow escaped his magic-restraining bounds and had run off after brutally butchering his three assigned guards. The secondary patrol had discovered the macabre scene after the guards had failed to bring in their reports for the day. Thor couldn't believe his brother capable of escaping a magic bound cell such as the one he was in, not to mention that his shackles were enchanted and uru-reinforced, made by the Dwarves of Svaltalheimr and enchanted by Odin himself. There was no logical explanation of how Loki, in his situation, was able to regain his powers and flee. Yet, however illogical it was, it didn't stop the army from going out on a wild-goose chase across Asgard, Aflheim and Vanaheimr- the three most probable places for Loki to be.

Svartalfheimr was a barren land on the surface, so there was no place for the god to hide in, except for the dwarven underground tunnels, places hardly safe if he happened across a dwarf. Dwarves were not... overly fond of Aesir, or any other creature for that matter. Jotenheim was a logical choice, but Loki's history with the realm's inhabitants was also a very hostile one. Mayhem, murder and blood were still too fresh in the Frost Giants' minds for Loki to be granted any sort of sanctum there. Midgard was not a very likely destination option. The humans were still on high alert for any repeat of the phenomenons that took place during the invasion so the probability was that even if he'd gone there Heimdall would be immediately alerted. On the rest of the realms Loki would be more likely and able to hide himself with magic from the gatekeeper's eyes. Muspelheimr, Nifleheimr -the prime realms of Fire and Ice- and Helheimr -the realm of the dead- were out of the question. Not even Loki was reckless enough to set foot on those. The only options left were the three Realms at the higher branches of the sacred Igdrasil. The realms of the Aesir, of the Elves and of the Vanir.

Thor contemplated on those facts as he moved through the dark corridors and long staircases that made Asgard's dungeons. He severely disliked the place, the wet and cold stones that made the walls and floor gave him a sinking feeling at the base of his spine. He knew that feeling like that was not the way a Mightly Warrior of Asgard should be, but he couldn't help it. Only the thought of his brother at that cold and unwelcome place gave him a hard time in achieving slumber for several nights. Oh how he had wanted to visit Loki's cell...! To give him reassurance that all would be well, his punishment would end soon enough and they would finally be able to speak as brother to brother. The thunderer both longed and dreaded that time. Because he knew that when the time to confront his brother straight would come he would be forced to recognize his own shortcomings. For he knew it, deep into his heart, that what had become of Loki that had led him to his fall, and eventually his madness on Midgard, were his own fault. He had failed as a big brother, he had failed in supporting Loki, in showing him the right way, in protecting him. Protecting him from both him and Asgard, but from his own self as well. For Loki was a danger to himself, that much Thor knew. Alas, Thor was unable to give his brother such reassurances, since the Allfather had prohibited visits to the isolated cell from anyone. Not even Frigga was able to change the king's mind, and Thor knew for certain that she had indeed tried to. Thor only hoped that the guards hadn't treated his brother as they did the rest of the prisoners, for Loki was still a prince, even if a sentenced one.

His thoughts came to a halt as he reached the corridor that led to the isolated cell. The stench of blood was strong, amplified by the tight space of the place, and made Thor's stomach curl. He went closer with purposeful strides, determined to see the extend of the damage his brother had caused.

The sight of the slaughter made his face tighten. Blood was splattered across most of the surface of the cell, on the walls and floor and some even on the ceiling. Intestines sprawled all over, bodies more like a mixed pile of red parts than actual humanoid corpses. Loki had done all this? Thor was even more convinced that there was something more on the situation that they knew about, for just how much rage, hatred and delight for cold-blooded murder could one person hold in them to lash out in such way? Even if it was true that the guards has mistreated Loki an he had killed them for it (and Loki would undoubtedly seek revenge if such a case were true) he still would never go to such lengths. It was too messy, too primitive, too savage for the calculated, cold and precise Trickster. Too chaotic, even for the God of Chaos. That was certainly not his design. That was not Loki.

But who... or _what_ , could it be...?

\---------------

It was several months after Loki's disappearance and still no trace of the god was to be found. Thor was growing desperate. Odin was growing furious. Frigga was just miserable, even if she did not show it at all, always holding herself like the queen of Asgard should, without fail.

The search had expanded to the rest of the realms (even to the primal ones envoys were send) but to no avail. No clue as to what had become of the young prince. Thor was by then convinced that Loki had not actually escaped, at least not on his own. The shackles placed on him had not been found, either whole nor shattered, so fact was that Loki had not actually escaped them. As a conclusion, his powers were not of use at the time, since the magic in the bounds negated whatever kind of magic, spell or rune ward tried to pass through them. Someone had helped him out and taken him with them. But who? Thor could not bring his mind to figure this out. It was eating him alive. His brother was gone and he had no idea what he could be up to at the moment. It was a quite frustrating thought, that the younger god could, at that same moment, be devising plans to take over Midgard again, or some other kind of realm or planet. That all he had worked so hard to save and all the destruction he had fought to prevent would repeat, and this time he might not be able to stop it. All those thoughts rounded at Thor's brain, from day to night and repeat. But there was one more small thought. One more sinister small thought that had somehow made it's way in his head and wriggled itself into his brain. One thought that besides himself made him hope that all the above were true. Because if they were, whatever implications that small thought bore were automatically negated. "Did Loki go with his liberators willingly or...?" Or. He didn't want to think what that small word, "or", carried. Because if Loki had not willingly accepted the chance to escape, something horrible, truly terrible must have been the alternative. It made him wonder if the blood that covered the cell after the Trickster's disappearance all came from the guards...

Thor banged his fist on the thick wooden table in-front of him, making Sif and Hoggun next to him jump started. They glanced at Thor, who was furiously studying at his curled fist on the table, and then exchanged a meaningful look between them. Thor was not at his best since Loki had escaped. He was tired, irritable and his face in a constant frown, like he was in deep thought that was getting him nowhere. They had to drag him by force with them from time to time to join them on their usual hunts, in an attempt to cheer him up. One that rarely worked, much to Fandral's disappointment, who had become even more talkative and irritating that usual. They had to do something but they could think of nothing. Loki had to be found, and soon, or it was clear that Thor would be driven mad with grief and worry. It was much like after the incident with the bridge, only then it was mostly grief of loss and mourning that had brought down the Thunderer. Now it was the lack of knowledge. It was making everyone stand on edge, especially those that had direct dealings with the Trickster god in the past and knew the extend of what he was capable of.

"Thor..." Sif approached the Thunderer with caution, placing a tentative hand upon his shoulder. "Do not worry. He will be found. He is Loki, he is bound to turn up at some point. As his brother you know that better than anyone, I believe."

Thor tensed before suddenly deflating, his shoulders shagging with all the emotional burden.

"I apologize, my friends. My worry over my brother has affected you all. It was not my intention to burden you as well." His head was turned towards the table, still, but his voice carried the small sad smile he offered them in apology.

"Perhaps..." Hoggun's gruff and deep accented voice snapped them out or their depressing reverie. "You should visit Midgard, my friend. A little change of scenery would do your soul good. There's nothing more you can offer here that you have not already." He offered with a tilt of his head.

Thor contemplated it for a while and nodded in agreement.

"Perhaps you are correct my friend. I should go. I should also inform my comrades about our predicament. They deserve to know."

Sif frowned but said nothing, nodding her assent. Thor had obviously already decided upon it and a trip to his favorite Realm could truly do him good.

Hoggun clasped him on the shoulder.

"Have a good journey, my friend. We shall inform the others of your departure."

Thor gave him a rare, for those times, gratuitous wide smile. "I shall leave immediately then. Heimdall should have heard everything already, the Bifrost shall not take long to activate." He turned without second thoughts and headed to the site where Heimdall awaited. His friends did not miss the purposeful stride in his step as he exited the golden hall. Loki's loss had affected everyone, especially the kind prince, and seeing him almost joyful in the prospect of reuniting with his Midgardian shield-Brothers and Sister they had heard so much about, made them feel relief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **AN- Here it is! Finally!**
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> **I was able to finally bring you ch.10, you can't imagine how happy I am right now. I won't even mention what my computer is still going through, so I'll just skip to the point. Thank you so much to those still sticking around for this story! Thank you so much for all your reviews and support, it's the only thing that keeps me from neglecting this story and what brings me courage to continue writing even without my computer. I apologize profoundly for all the reviews I've failed to answer, but know that I read each and every one of them. My PSP can log into my mail but for some reason won't let me review or anything on FF...**
> 
>  
> 
> **Ch.11 is already almost done, though it'll take a while to bring out due to the limited amount of time I can spent on a borrowed PC and the fact that I have to type it down to digital form. But worry not, it'll come!**
> 
>  
> 
> **Thank you for reading! :D**
> 
>  
> 
> **Cheers!**
> 
>  
> 
> **P.S.- To the reviewer that asked about the pain amount in the first chaps at FF, SolaraXenWargoli. Tony did not call a doctor because no trusted enough would be in immediate calling-range, and SHIELD has a curious way of having their fingers stuck in each and every kind of pie, so if a super-hero wanted to save a super-villain, secrecy should be priority. About the anesthesia, I could find many reasons to explain by abusing the facts that Loki is an alien, a Jotun/Aesir, unstudied life form with unknown biology yada-yada, but the hard truth is that I'm simply too sadistic. I always try to use every possible situation to torture the characters I care about. It adds more spice to the angst and as a result, to the fluff. xP I simply can't help it...! I hope I did not disappoint you too much with this answer, but in my defense, I did warn about the gore...! Also Loki is supposedly a god, so I don't think heart attacks or strokes would be too much of a danger. At least in my head the would not... xP Cheers!**


	11. The Bird And The Prey

SHIELD agent Clint Barton stood a few feet away from the stunned occupants of the couch, his face twisted in an expression of pure horror, if Tony had ever seen one. His body was strung in battle stance, muscles tighter than the string of the bow still clutched in his hands, knuckles white with a death grip, as if the custom aluminum alloy weapon was the only thing keeping him from crumbling to the floor.

Tony ignored all this, his mind still focused on the deathly projectile that had almost killed the god now clutched tightly in his chest.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

His gaze found Barton's and his tone, though hoarse, was so purely furious, like he was about to leap forwards and rip the agent to shreds, that Barton stammered and took an unconscious step back.

"Wha-- What do you mean what the fuck is wrong with _me?_ " He croaked, his voice high pitched and incredulous "What The fuck is wrong with _YOU!_ That's... That's fucking _LOKI!_ You're fucking embracing him!" He only seemed to realize his own words as they came out of his mouth. "...Why are you fucking embracing him...?" He asked in a small voice.

Tony took a few deep breaths clutching Loki tighter to him. The god's face was pressed against his sternum, but Loki didn't move or protest. He stayed deathly still, as if his presence could somehow disappear the less he moved. The only thing that betrayed that he was still conscious were the panicked breaths that blew hotly against Tony's skin through his shirt.

"Yes, I can see that without the shiny, pointy arrow, thank you very much." Came the scientist's acidic reply. "That's because you're going around shooting people like an enraged cupid on steroids, that's why." 

The amount of sarcasm dripping from his words would have melted any common man to the ground. Barton, though, was unfazed. His horrified eyes narrowed dangerously.

"What the fuck did he do to you, Stark?" He dared a couple of steps forward. "Is he controlling you?" His eyes focused on the burning gaze of the inventor, searching for any evidence of poisonous blue magic explaining the utterly baffling scene before him. Which became even more confusing when he found none. "What is going on?" He asked, voice on the edge of trembling, his hands never lowering his strained and armed bow.

Tony opened his mouth, probably for another verbal attack, when a low growl cut him off and made his face turn white. He tore his focus from the enraged agent and whipped his head around towards the armchair that his science-buddy had been peacefully sleeping a few moments before. It wasn't a pretty sight. Bruce had his face turned away and buried in his palm, elbow braced on one of the armchair's arms, his other hand viciously gripping the other, fingers digging in the soft material. His skin was a dangerous shade of green, greener than Loki's eyes, and he was visibly trembling. Barton gulped and lowered his bow, making an effort to stay still and not bolt away. That would provoke the beast way more effectively that if he was bouncing around screaming at the top of his lungs " Darwin was a total nutjob!!!", while waving his hands like a maniac.

Loki's fists had grabbed handfuls of Tony's shirt and was holding on for dear life. Tony's hold on him had loosened once the shock took hold and Loki was able to lift his head and peak at the situation at hand. He wished he hadn't.

"Stark..." The god's trembling voice barely a whisper above the loud, hoarse breaths of the green-skinned scientist that still fought with himself. Two bright, poison green eyes, as opposed to Loki's forest green, peaked through green fingers, taking in the people sitting across him before landing on Barton and pinning him with their hungry intensity. The agent paled. He took a trembling step back, bracing himself to run, when the Hulk closed his eyes again and let out a shaky moan of a breath. Slowly, the color bled out of him and returned back to his normal, if a little flushed, self. Bruce let his hand slip from his face to hung by the side of the chair and shagged back against the pillows, panting. He looked drained.

Tony was the first to speak, before any kind of silence threatened to take hold.

"Bruce. Buddy, you good?" Bruce only managed a couple of sharp nods, still trying to compose his breathing back to normal. Hawkeye didn't dare make a noise. His shock upon seeing the entity that still plagued his dreams so great, that he had failed to notice that a time bomb of a person was sitting only a couple of paces aside. He silently berated himself while his eye flickered from the dangerous scientist to the peculiar image of the god of chaos clutching onto Iron Man and back. Loki let out a shaky breath at Bruce's confirmation but was still unable to stop his limbs from trembling. His hands were still tangled in the soft fabric of Tony's band t-shirt and barely contained the terrified whines that threatened to escape him. For a moment he was back in time, at his previous meeting with he beast hidden inside the friendly scientist. He had never, in his long immortal life, felt such humiliating pain. The beast's brutal swings had made him literally one with the floor. He had somehow managed to hide it at the time, but he had not come out of the encounter unscathed. Upon impact with the floor his shoulder, spine, hip and several ribs had broken at so many places that shattered was more fitting a word. His ankle, where the beast had grabbed him and swung him from, still stung with phantom pains every time a particularly vicious recollection hit him.

A warm hand at the base of his neck brought him back to the present. Tony's arm moved to the god's waist and pulled him close, willing him to lean towards him again. The hand moved from his nape to his hair, racking through the soft black locks, effectively soothing the terrible feeling that burned in his chest. The intensity of the last few minutes slipped away from his body, and he leaned his face exhausted on Tony's shoulder, taking comfort in his warmth, willing himself to forget the agent's deadly presence across the room and finding himself surprised when the movement of the mortal's fingers through his hair made it so easy.

Tony took a moment to pat himself on the shoulder when he saw how relaxed the god was beneath his hands. Then, he took in Hawkeye's baffled expression and his eyes hardened again. Barton made to open his mouth to speak, but he was faster.

"Later." Short and sharp, underlined by the curt snap of the agent's jaw as his teeth obediently snapped together. 

\---------

He wanted to take Loki to his room, to wisp him away from the assassin, but he knew he couldn't. Loki could not be left alone at the moment, and Tony would be damned if he let the Bird of his sight. So he knew there's no other way than to endure, and hope that Loki would be okay. 

Bruce lets out a shaky, mirthless laugh.

"This really isn't a fitting environment for the other guy. I've almost lost it twice in the last few hours...!"

"Tell that to bird-boy." He said glancing back at Bruce. "You're not going anywhere big-guy, you have clearly everything under control."

"Tell that to the builder you'll have to come to close off the new Hulk-shaped window."

"I always thought a small redecoration should be in order... Perhaps Greeny has a sense for that stuff. It could be his new hobby! You know, other than the smashing thing." He smirked at the rolling of the doctor's eyes. Barton scoffed annoyed.

"I am still waiting for an explanation here." He crossed his arms in-front of him glaring at the two men he thought as comrades, keeping his distance. His bow, though unarmed, was still held into a white-knuckled grip in his hand.

"Take a seat, Agent Barton, and do not open your mouth again." Clint made a new discovery on how Tony Stark's voice could match the Director's and stiffly moved to the chair furthest, mouth closed but eyes never off the god.

Tony adjusted his grip on Loki, never letting go and making sure that Clint would not be in the god's line of sight. He leaned closer, pressing his cheek on the ebony hair, feeling them soft under his skin, the smell of fear clear from so close.

"It'll be alright. He won't touch you, I promise." His reassuring whisper was meant only for Loki. He could feel the way the god swallowed before he got a small and short nod in answer, and only then did he turn to face the challenge, who had been watching the whole exchange from afar, a deep frown marring his face.

"So, Agent Barton. Bird-boy, where is your partner? And weren't you supposed to be in Italy?" The last is underlined with a accusatory glance towards Jarvis' optic sensor at the corner of the room. Barton scowls.

"You're the one that's supposed to be answering the questions here, Stark." Tony's glare has nothing to do with his indulgence. "If you must know, Natasha is still wrapping up in Italy. I returned a few days earlier. And how the hell did you know about the mission?" His curiosity was always one of his weaknesses, second only to his heart. Just like Stark.

"Please. I'm Tony Stark." Was the oh-too-helpful an answer. Clint couldn't take it anymore though. He wanted answers and he demanded them now.

"Look, Stark. Either you tell now me what a high priority target of a mass murdering psychopath is doing taking refuge at your tower, or I'm calling Fury, and not even your technology will be fast enough to cut off the emergency signal. Start speaking."

Tony let out weary sigh. Loki was once again rigid in his arms, the single mention of the Director enough to send cold chills down his spine, strong enough for Tony to feel them through the fabric of the soft shirt. He forces himself to bite down all the harsh answers that immediately popped up in his brain, acknowledging the fact that Barton has indeed not called Loki in yet. He waited for Tony to explain himself first, before jumping into action, which is more than Tony could even hope for just a few short months back. The assassin was furious, that much was clear, but he still graced Tony, his ally and partner-in-crime, with the benefit of the doubt. Tony took a deep, calming breath before speaking up again.

"He isn't an enemy, not anymore." It takes Clint's confused look to realize just how vague that was for an answer. "He was punished enough. He was tortured. He was beaten to a point where even an Asgardian clearly cannot handle." And not only, but he doubts Loki will appreciate it if he started announcing the details, as much as he knew anyway, to anyone, especially people who wanted nothing more than to sculpt a nice, round hole through his scull. "Look just... Don't call Fury. Believe me when I say it, he's has been through enough for even you to acknowledge." He doesn't want to say any more, not with Loki there. Bruce -bless his green soul- can clearly see that.

"Tony." He waited for the inventor to turn to him before he continued. "Take Loki to lie down, this is too stressing for his wounds. I'll clear this up." Tony hesitated, but he knew the doctor was right. He was always right, almost as always as Pepper.

"Okay, good, I'll... I'll be with Loki. Call through Jarvis if you need anything." Bruce nodded and gestured him to go.

Tony carefully shifts his hold with his arm around the other's shoulders, gently supporting the god as he rises to his feet reluctantly, and guides him away. Before they exit the room, Loki stops. Tony looks at him in question, but Loki's hesitant gaze is fixed somewhere around Barton's feet, who watches them like a hawk. Loki clears his throat, not daring meet his eyes.

"Agent Barton. I am aware that what I am about to say will not and cannot change anything but... I wanted you to know that... I... I am sorry." He struggles the words out of his tightened throat, his effort so much that he misses the other's surprised and furious inhale. "I am truly sorry. I never meant for any..." He swallows down the bile that threatens to rise. "I am sorry." His breath has risen and Tony glances once back, at the startled archer before he hurries to take Loki away, certain that the other had finished speaking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, finally, FINALLY IT'S HERE!!!  
> I couldn't do it anymore, I felt like I was consciously withholding evidence for a crime investigation...! I hope you can forgive me for being AWOL for all these months, I never meant for such a huge absence to happen. I'm sorry. I will start working on chapter 12 probably tomorrow, not making any promises about release date. Hopefully soon! I like where this is going!
> 
> Cheers!
> 
> P.S. A huge THANK YOU to everyone and anyone who reviewed and commented during all this time, YOU are the reason this chapter is finally out here! You guys are my strength and inspiration.
> 
> For updates on all my works and more, follow me at my update blog: halkyonblade.tumblr.com/ (sorry for the lack of link, I STILL haven't figured how to HTML those -rich text is not an option in the notes-... If anyone can tell me it would be immensely appreciated....!)


	12. Truth and Tears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A wild chapter appears...!! Feels get angsty and the cat's out of the bag... Oh boy.

Loki stumbled behind the inventor as the later almost dragged him down the corridor, a grimace of constant pain slightly contorting his face as his injuries were jarred with each step. Tony guided Loki past the small guestroom and shoved him in his own room, guiding him to sit on the king-sized bed. Just like a mother would a misbehaving child.

“What. the. hell. No, wait.”

He took a deep breath, lifting a finger to emphasise the pause as he took a swig from a leftover scotch glass on the nightstand before resuming the situation at hand.

“Just what the hell, Loki! What the _fuck_ was that?!”

Loki just stared at him, his eyebrows pinching in confusion on his pale, haggard face.

“I do not understand the problem. I simply… apologised.”

The word sounded hard to get out, like he did not know the proper way to spell it. The nerve.

“Yes, you just apologized.” Tony mocked. “To a damned trained killer that wants to do nothing else than to skewer you and hang you above his fireplace as a trophy!”

Loki did not seem all that disturbed by the image the inventor presented. Not that Tony would have expected more than a raised eyebrow as a reaction, not by a damn space viking.

“As far as knowledge serves, your mortal customs are not all that different from Asgard, Stark. That an honest apology is an essential step in expressing remorse.” Loki sassed back stubbornly at Tony behind clenched teeth, despite the tremors that had only then started to die down. The ‘excitement’ of the last few days had taken their toll on the rate of his recovery and it was very evident in the way he was hunched in on himself as he sat across the inventor.

Tony still saw red.

“Seriously, Rudolf? Seriously? Remorse?” Tony growled. “I know that I said your punishment was uncalled for, because it totally was, I know that you went through a _lot_ of shit after your capture. You might have even regretted your actions in the meantime, I wouldn’t know. But you don’t simply ‘express remorse’ for slaughtering hundreds, thousands of people, destroying whole cities and taking over the minds of people.” He explained, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger in frustration. He was pissed. “It is a kind of a _sensitive_ subject! A sorry doesn’t exactly cut it!”

Loki seethed from his hunched position on the bed.

“And what would _you_ suggest then, Stark? What would you do in my position, how would you express yourself? Shall I slice open my throat in hopes of placating the assassin?”

“Oh, so it was a strategic move now, was it?” It was Tony that raised the eyebrow at this point, expression judging. Criticising.

“That is not--”

“Everything is a goddamn strategy to you, isn’t it. Every fucking move a calculation, am I right? What the shit where you expecting to happen out there, huh? Did your grand plan work out fine this time? Because that way of thinking is what landed you in the situation you’re currently in, if I may kindly remind you!”

“Stark--”

“As for what I’d do in your position, well other than _not_ causing murder and mayhem in the first place? Oh, I don’t know, how about _not poking the triggers of the fucking spy-part-time-assassin with major PTSD issues and a bunch of arrows?!_ ”

“STARK!”

The broken voice cut like a blade through the rant that had taken over Tony’s mouth, causing him to snap his jaw shut and lock eyes with the god. Loki had jumped upright, fists tight by his sides, trembling harder than before. His shirt was once again, stained with red spots.

“Why,” he questioned in a deep, trembling drawl. It sounded like desperation. “Why do you immediately assume my remorse dishonest?”

He took a shaky step forward as he advanced towards Tony. He did not seem to mind the pain the sharp movement caused him, even though his face was getting paler by the second.

“You speak to me of carelessness, of watching my tongue among my past victims. I am fully capable of employing such a thing as common courtesy, Stark, of holding my words before the wronged. I chose not to, not because of any bloody calculations, but because that is what must be done! I see disgust in your eyes, you talk to me about remorse, about options. What do you know of my options, Stark?!

“Do you think I wanted this?” he hissed at Tony, his eyes blazing. “Do you really think I wanted all that blood on my hands? Do you really think I would travel between realms only to kill and destroy aimlessly in the name of petty domination? All this to, what? Get back at Odin and Thor?”

Tony was staring at the watery, green eyes of the furious man before him, eyes wide at the harsh words.

“Loki--”

Loki scoffed, averting his eyes.

“What am I saying. Of course you do.” He chuckled an ugly, mirthless laugh as the tears started rolling down his face. Loki did not seem to notice. “I am the wayward son of Asgard, the monster of this tale. The megalomaniac with a hurt ego and a taste for revenge. What would reason have to do with anything, correct?”

“Loki, what are you implying?” Tony dared voice.

“You think I don’t know how it is to be in Agent Barton’s position?” He brought a hand to his temple, gripping his long hair in a white knuckled grip as he pressed them against his skull. His voice was wrecked. “To have a voice tearing my brain apart, pulling my strings at will. Scratching against my skull as it rummages through my deepest thoughts, my memories. Forcing me to kill, to rip apart enemies and friends and innocents alike. To know it was because of me, because of my weakness, because I slipped that they even had the chance to use me that way…!” His eyes found Tony’s.

“You think I don’t _know_ , Stark?”

He was holding the sobs threatening to completely break him down back at this point, his knees barely holding his as he searched the inventor’s gaze for his thoughts. Without his conscious command his steps had carried him right in front of the shorter man, close enough to see the light from the window reflected in the hazel eyes, even with the tears muddling his vision. He made no move to reach out to touch the other however, his shoulders hunched even more so than before and his arms kept close to his body. The fingers of his hand were still firmly fisted around the dark locks by his temple, trembling and lost.

Tony did not know what to do with his new information. He did not know how to handle this, his genius brain for once lost, unable to process the facts presented. Doubt was his initial, instinctive reaction. Why would Loki tell the truth, right? This was easier, deceit was easier. An elaborate, masterfully delivered ploy. Tony would like to believe that, he really would. Because then this white, boiling rage he could feel slowly bubbling up his stomach to choke him would have a target. But Tony knew it from the start, it was not a lie, not a ploy. Only the ugly, disturbing truth.

The blank noise that screeched between his ears in the moment of blind rage (or was it panic) stopped abruptly. It left Tony with a racing heartbeat and enough awareness to notice Loki only moments before his knees finally gave out beneath him. The god was still way too close to him, all the inventor had to do has reach out and wrap his arms around the thin torso, so he did before Loki hit the ground. Cradling the broken body close he lowered them both gently to the floor. Loki buried his face to Tony’s neck, silent sobs wracking his body in painful spasms.

“Shh, Rudolf….” he mumbled against the other's hair. His hand found Loki’s where it was still tangled in his locks, calloused fingers gently coaxing long and pale ones to open one by one. He did not release his hold once he had the whole hand free, pressing against it instead to slide his fingers where the hair used to be, in between Loki’s. Loki held on to the hand for dear life, his grip desperate and pleading. “It’s over, Princess. You are your own man now.”

That earned him a laugh, albeit an empty, wet one.

“Freedom is an illusion, Stark. A cruel mind game, nothing more.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has been.... years...! How have y'all been? :D At last, the next chapter has arrived and the hiatus has been finally partially lifted~ As I've said before, I never ever abandom my stories, I juuust often take long --this was so very long!-- breaks from them, to battle all the blocks that get lodged into my brain and to work on re-kindling my enthousiasm over my ideas.  
> It has been very long since I last wrote these two loves of mine, so I hope I did not stray too much from the original characterisation. I am working hard to get back on track with them, I assure you...!
> 
> I apologise about the short length, I meant to write more but I did not want to let you wait any more than necessary. The next half of this chapter, now dubbed ch.13, is currently on the works. A character we've been expecting for long now might also be making an appearance soon-ish hihi~  
> Please enjoy!
> 
> \---I've made art! :D I do that, occasionally, but this time it is relevant to the story~ [Here, have a hurt!Loki](http://7seasalcyon.tumblr.com/post/156268386074/loki-from-my-ironfrost-story-abominations-of-the) (I'm a terrible person....!)  
> I you have something specific you would like me to try and art about from this story (or perhaps my other stories?) don't hesitate to drop me a comment and I'll see what I can do :) 
> 
> Also, small update, considering re-writing this fic, or at least parts of it, when I have some extra time. It was the first fic I ever wrote, and the quality is considerably lower than I would like...! Haven't decided yet tho, leaving the idea aside for later revision.
> 
> Till (the hopefully sooner than possible) next time---  
> Cheers!!


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